


Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice

by DoctorCucumber



Series: All You Knead Is Love [1]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Angst, Awkward Flirting, Bad Flirting, Bakery AU, Baking, Disaster Gays, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Shenanigans, Epilogue, Eventual Romance, F/F, Fluff, Flustered Doctor (Doctor Who), Friends to Lovers, Gay Panic, Grace O'Brien Is Alive, Human AU, Human Doctor (Doctor Who), Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Idiots in Love, Meet-Cute, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Doctor (Doctor Who), POV Multiple, Romance, Schmoop, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-02-22 14:26:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 23,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22717468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorCucumber/pseuds/DoctorCucumber
Summary: Jane Smith had an unnatural talent for attracting interesting people to her bakery.  When PC Yasmin Khan stumbled into her life, she never knew what hit her.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Series: All You Knead Is Love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1683274
Comments: 251
Kudos: 254





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I’ve been mildly obsessed with literally any Human AU of this ship I can find (especially Human Nature AU, don't judge), so I decided to add to the pantheon. I’ve been trying to teach myself how to bake recently (a friend and I are entering a pie contest at the local bookshop this weekend, so wish us luck!) and I just wanted to see how this concept would work with 13, because it seems cute and soft and gay and I need all that right now, y'know?
> 
> Right now, the goal is to post a new chapter every Friday, but we’ll see how quickly I abandon that. I’m a bit worried I’m not doing this idea justice, so I might have to rework some things as we go. This is my first time writing for this ship and my first time actually trying to have a solidly planned storyline, so I can't really promise perfection here. Happy Valentine's Day to anyone who is forever alone like me! Hopefully some fluffy nonsense can cheer you up!

Yasmin Khan had always liked waking up early for work. The quiet streets, the soft sunrise, the sleepy people getting up to greet the morning. Starting her day before the sun was always a small joy in Yaz’s week; with the entire day laid out before her, anything was possible.

But recently, anything had come more to mean tedious calls and endless minor arguments she was forced to sort. Yaz knew she was meant for so much more than this, if only she could get through her probationary period without succumbing to the utterly humdrum nature of her life. She knew she’d never been a quitter, but every morning she felt like her dream was slipping further and further away.

It was during one of these early mornings when Yaz found herself making a rather peculiar discovery. The call had started out like any other, a parking dispute that could have just as easily been worked out without police intervention. After sorting the argument, Yaz had started walking back to her squad car, passing by a narrow alleyway and thinking nothing of it.

Nearly back to her vehicle, a loud yelp and a crash echoed through the air. Yaz froze. Glancing around for the source of the noise, her eyes landed on a blue door a few paces into the alley. As she hurried over, she noticed narrow glass windows flanking the door, displaying beautifully decorated cakes and towering pyramids of donuts.

As the door opened, the first thing Yaz noticed was the smell. She was overwhelmed with the aroma of freshly baked bread, sweet chocolate, and ripe fruit. Glancing around, she saw that the bakery seemed a lot bigger on the inside than the storefront had suggested. Display cases bookended a short counter lined with tall stools. Ribbons of steam drifted away from a still warm pie next to the till. Yaz had a clear view into the kitchen, where she spotted several large ovens and a towering sheet pan rack lined with cooling pastries.

What she didn’t see, however, were any other people. She was sure the sound had come from in here; it seemed to be the only shop in the alleyway. Before she could call out, laughter rang through the space. The melodic chiming washed over Yaz, urging her to find out who the voice belonged to. She approached the counter, leaning over and clapping a hand over her mouth at the sight before her.

A figure was sprawled out on the floor, laying in an absolutely massive pile of flour. They were wearing a mustard yellow apron now caked in white, and had a torn sack over their head, muffling the almost hysterical laughter. If Yaz hadn’t known better, it almost looked like they were making snow angels.

“Are you alright?” Yaz called out, peering down over the barrier between them.

The laughter stopped abruptly as nimble fingers pushed the ripped bag away, revealing a mess of blonde hair and a brilliant smile. The woman giggled as she rubbed flour out of her eyes, turning her face toward the sound of Yaz’s voice.

“Oh, I’m brilliant,” she quipped without a hint of sarcasm. A warmth spread through Yaz’s chest at the sight of her; she was in awe at how someone could be so optimistic in such a messy situation.

The woman’s massive grin was broken by a sneeze, sending flour flying out of her hair like a halo. The passing thought that she looked rather adorable flitted through Yaz’s brain, too fast for her to pay it much mind.

Making a quick decision, Yaz vaulted over the counter, kicking up a small cloud of flour as she landed. She knelt down over the woman, not caring about the mess she was making of her uniform trousers. Getting a better look at her face up close, Yaz saw that flour still clung to her eyelashes, and her eyes were a brilliant color Yaz couldn’t quite place.

“Are you hurt?” she asked, hearing the concern in her own voice.

“No, no, I’m totally fine! I fall over enough, almost used to it by now,” she said with a cheeky grin as she pushed herself up to sit back against the counter. “Although I will say, the flour is a relatively new touch.”

Yaz tried to hold back a snort as the woman shook more flour out of her hair, triggering another adorable sneeze.

“Here, let me help,” Yaz said, snatching a broom she spotted wedged underneath the counter.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” the woman started, moving to stand.

Yaz held out a hand to stop her, already hopping up and sweeping some of the mess away. “It’s the least I can do, I’m a police officer, I serve the people,” she joked. The woman laughed again, and Yaz couldn’t help but smile with pride at causing the other woman some joy.

“Serves me right for trying to grab it on my own. First one in every morning, should have waited for some taller help,” she pouted, and Yaz forced herself to glance away, not wanting to stare at the woman’s lip jutting out.

As she focused on the task at hand, it dawned on her what she was doing, broom faltering against the floor. “Sorry, you probably don’t want random strangers behind your counter, do you?” she chuckled nervously. Hurrying to clear away the rest of the flour, she hopped up to sit on the counter and swung her legs over to the other side.

The blonde laughed again, shrugging as she pulled herself up. “I’d say most random strangers wouldn’t come back here just to clean, so I’ll give you a pass this time, officer.”

Yaz blushed as the woman reached into her apron, yanking out a small towel and giving it a quick pass over her face. “There, am I at least somewhat presentable?” she quirked up an eyebrow, tossing the towel over her shoulder.

Yaz looked her over and, without thinking, leaned in to brush a stray streak of powder from her cheek. She felt the woman suck in a breath at the touch of her fingers, and she pulled her hand back as if she’d been burned. “Sorry, sorry, sorry, look at me, we’ve just met, that was weird, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“Don’t apologize,” the woman said, face lighting up as she seemed to recover from her slight shock. “I’m plenty weird, I don’t mind some extra.”

There was a beat before both women broke out into a fit of giggles. As Yaz started to calm down, she saw the blonde duck behind one of the display cases and fiddle with a bag.

Before Yaz had a chance to question what she was doing, her head popped back up and she gave Yaz a dazzling smile. “Here, as a thank you,” she said, thrusting the paper sack at Yaz.

“Oh, you don’t have to-”

“I want to,” the woman cut her off with a grin. “And, they’re pretty tasty, so you’ll have to come back for more.”

Yaz blushed as she accepted the bag, surprised at the weight of it. “In case you knock down another flour sack?”

“Oi! I had it under control,” she pouted, planting her hands on her hips. For a moment, Yaz was worried she was genuinely offended, but her eyes sparkled with mirth.

Yaz glanced inside the bag and smiled. “Donuts, huh?” Yaz teased, guessing what was about to come next.

“Well, y’know, cops and donuts and, and you’re a cop! So, y’know, donuts,” she said, cheeks reddening as she stumbled through her thought.

Yaz thought that maybe with anyone else, she might have taken slight offense, but not with this woman. She was oozing with sincerity, and it made Yaz’s cheeks go warm as she watched her keep rambling on.

“But, thank you, really. Y’know, you came in here to make sure I was alright, not everyone would have done that.”

“Well, I hope I’m not everyone then,” Yaz heard herself say softly.

The woman gave her a shy smile, looking up at Yaz through her still slightly floury lashes.

“I’m Jane by the way,” she said, extending a just as floury hand.

Yaz suppressed a massive smile as she took it. “Yasmin. Yaz to my friends.”

“Well then, Yaz,” she grinned, “I hope I’ll see you around?” Yaz wished the hint of genuine hope she thought she heard in the question was really there, because she might have been hoping for the same thing.

She couldn’t help it; a truly dopey smile broke out across Yaz’s face at both the use of her nickname and the fact that Jane was still shaking her hand. She nodded as Jane’s hand slowed to a stop. She didn’t let go, just holding Yaz’s hand, seemingly in a bit of a trance.

They stood there for just a beat longer than they should have, neither seeming to want to let go. “Right, sorry, you’ve probably got important police things to get back to, don’t let me keep you,” Jane shook her head, snapping out of her daze.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll just,” Yaz said, nodding toward the door, walking backwards as she did. She gave a tip of her hat, making Jane giggle at the sight.

Grasping the doorknob, Yaz gave a small wave, resisting the urge to glance back again as she left the shop. Maybe, she thought, she could treat herself to another donut tomorrow morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, wow, did I really update this when I said I would? You betcha, for exactly once in my life! Next week I’ll try to update on Saturday, because who doesn’t love Leap Day, am I right? In the meantime, enjoy the aftermath of that cavity-inducing meet-cute from last week.
> 
> Also, I think I figured out a full outline for this and how many chapters it’ll be, so we should be done around the first week of May if you’re the kind of person who likes to wait for fics to be finished to start them, no judgement from me!
> 
> Also also, I’m sure exactly zero people were waiting with bated breath, but my friend and I got second place in the pie contest! We were also the youngest people there by a solid fifty years, so do with that information what you will. Anyway, enjoy the new chapter!

Jane Smith had always been a bit of a clutz. But today, she was oddly grateful for it.

It was because of her catastrophic nature that she had met Yasmin. Yaz to her friends. Jane wanted to be her friend. Or more. Not that she wouldn’t be ecstatic just to be her friend. Or that friendship was somehow lesser than something else. But Yaz did have such a lovely face. And laugh. And eyes and hair and lips and -

Jane nearly jumped out of her skin at the feel of a hand landing on her shoulder. She whipped around, ready to attack her assailant, only to drop her hands in recognition.

“Ryan! Don’t sneak up on people like that, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” she yelped, trying to catch her breath.

“You alright there, Jane? I said your name ‘bout a dozen times,” Ryan asked, looking rather confused and apologetic.

Jane nodded, putting her hands on her hips as she tried to calm her racing heart. Maybe it wasn’t only racing because of a little fright. She shivered a bit as she tried to shut down _that_ particular line of thought.

“How long have you been cleaning that same spot on the counter?”

She hadn’t realized she’d been zoning out, staring wistfully at the door and rubbing absent circles into the counter she was leaning against. “Long enough,” Jane replied, trying and failing to sound dignified.

Ryan didn’t look convinced of her sanity, raising an eyebrow and scanning the scene around him. Honestly, seeing her caked in flour was almost normal at this point. It must be something else.

“Oh, you’ve got a look on your face.”

“I haven’t got any look,” she shot back too fast, instantly on the defensive.

“No, yeah, you totally do!”

“What look?”

“It’s a bit of a lovesick look.”

“That’s daft.”

“Oh, did someone walk in? Was she cute? Is that why you’ve gone all funny?”

 _Yes, Ryan, I’m a simple lesbian. I see a pretty girl, I cease to function._ “No,” she squeaked.

“You’re a rubbish liar, Jane.”

She sighed under his pointed gaze. Giving Ryan a non-committal nod, he whooped in celebration.

“Cool it, she’s probably not - y’know. And even if she was, she would’ve been out of my league.”

Ryan scoffed at that. “Jane, don’t act like you aren’t fit. If I was into blondes, I’d be _wayyyyyy_ into you.”

She punched him in the shoulder as they both broke into fits of giggles, which halted at the sound of the door opening.

Jane perked up immediately. Could Yaz have come back already? Surely not - unless? Her brief moment of hope was shattered at the sight of Ryan’s grandmother, smiling warmly at her. Jane felt her shoulders sag and her grin slip from her cheeks.

“Well, it’s nice to see you too, Janey, love,” Grace chuckled, spotting the crestfallen look on Jane’s face.

Jane shook herself out of it, embarrassed and genuinely happy to see Grace. She was always happy to see Ryan’s grandparents. They were so warm and loving, and she missed having that in her life.

“Sorry, Grace, I didn’t mean - how are you?”

Grace shot Ryan a questioning look. His face broke into a cheeky grin as he glanced at the flustered woman burying her face in her arms against the counter.

“Jane’s in loooove,” Ryan crowed.

“I am not!” she squeaked, whacking him with her towel and sending flour everywhere.

“That’s exactly the kind of thing someone in denial would say, mate. Isn’t that right, Nan?”

He ducked behind the display case and bagged a pastry for Grace, slipping a pound out of his own pocket and sticking it in the till. Jane suppressed a smile at the gesture; she’d told him countless times that he could take whatever he wanted, especially if it was for his family, and she wouldn’t mind. But he never seemed to listen, treating Grace or her husband, Graham, whenever they popped in.

Jane didn’t have any family of her own to speak of, so she always enjoyed seeing the O’Brien’s. She didn’t know, however, that the O’Brien’s liked seeing her equally as much. Grace sometimes dropped in on her way to the hospital to check up on Ryan. And secretly Jane as well.

She worried that the poor girl didn’t seem to have much in her life besides the bakery. Grace was relieved that she and Ryan had really hit it off when he started working there, but was worried about what Jane would do when Ryan would have to leave. He was only working there while he was studying for his NVQ, and Grace knew that Jane was already secretly dreading him leaving to become a mechanic.

Grace smiled kindly as she accepted the bag of pastries from her grandson. “Don’t listen to him, Jane, I think Graham’s cheek is starting to rub off on him. Speaking of which, have you thought more about our invitation?”

The O’Brien’s had been asking Jane to come around for a meal for a while now. And as much as she really wanted to go, something always held her back. Seeing the hesitation on her face, Grace frowned. Maybe she’d need to be more direct this time.

“Jane, you’re always cooped up in that flat, you need some friends, love.”

“I’ve got plenty of friends,” Jane replied, not sounding entirely convinced.

“Ryan doesn’t count as plenty, dear.”

He shot his grandmother a look of faux hurt. She scrunched up her nose at him before they both turned back to Jane.

“When’s the last time you got out, you’re looking paler than me by the minute,” Ryan said with a chuckle, brushing some of the flour still clinging to her away.

“We’re in Sheffield, Ryan, there isn’t exactly an abundance of sun. And besides, I go out!”

“Tesco doesn’t count.”

She faltered, and then whacked him with the towel again, unable to come up with a better retort.

Grace seemed to be stifling a smile at the exchange. “Come on, dear, just this one Sunday. Graham makes quite the roast, and you know we’d love to have you. And Ryan’s already invited one of his old school mates who’s been having a bit of a time of it lately, it’ll be fun, a chance for you to get out of the flat, just have a nice time.”

“You’ll like me mate, Jane, she is _quite_ the looker, she’ll take your mind right off this _one that got away_ ,” he finished in a sing-song voice.

“Well, if she’s such a looker, why haven’t you got with her yet, Ryan?”

“I’m not positive, but I’ve a hunch you might be more her type.”

Jane felt her cheeks flush before her towel returned to its rightful place whacking against his chest. He jumped back, laughing at the ire of both his friend and his grandmother.

“Ryan Sinclair, you leave that poor girl alone!” Grace cut in.

He tried to defend himself but was having trouble doing so over both his laughter and Grace’s beratement. Jane smiled as the sound of loving argument filled her little bakery. She sighed, returning her gaze to the door, daydreaming about things that would never come to be.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has been leaving such lovely comments! They really make my day! I’ll be at C2E2 today, so if I take a long time to respond to your comments, that’s why. And if you’re in Chicago for the convention and see a short dork wearing Thirteen’s coat and a Peter Pan beanie, come say hello!
> 
> Now, enjoy some good old-fashioned oblivious gay flirting on this very special day of the year. And sorry for the kinda late update!

Yaz had spent the entirety of her shift so far scrutinizing a bag of donuts, which admittedly probably _was_ a waste of police resources. But she couldn’t help it. There was just something about her encounter that morning that she couldn’t shake out of her head.

Her distraction only increased when she finally caved and decided to try one of the sugary treats. Yaz sighed, knowing she didn’t usually partake in such sweets due to her active lifestyle on the force, but snatched a donut out of the bag anyway. Powder coated her fingertips, and she smiled, reminded of the woman from earlier covered in a similar white substance.

Yaz closed her eyes and took a tentative bite. As the pastry hit her tongue, she was shocked as a soft moan escaped her lips. It was easily the best thing Yaz had ever eaten. The pastry was perfectly airy; it was like biting into a cloud. And the sugary covering was just the right amount of sweet.

She swiftly finished off the confection, then grabbed another, and another, until before she realized it, the bag was empty. She’d probably ruined her appetite for supper, but she didn’t care. It had definitely been worth it.

Now, her plans for tomorrow morning were clear as crystal. She had to go back to the bakery, pay her respects to the chef. If there was anything that could possibly break Yaz of her departure from sugar, it was surely these donuts. So she just had to go back.

Purely to lend a compliment of course.

Not to see Jane or anything.

That’d be ridiculous.

* * *

The night had been a restless one for Yaz. She wasn’t quite sure what had kept her tossing and turning, but her typical early morning wasn’t as welcome as it usually was.

Until she remembered her plan to visit Jane.

Yaz’s mood increased tenfold then as she hurried out, stopping at a cafe near Jane’s bakery. Yaz wasn’t sure exactly what Jane liked to drink, but she assumed she’d appreciate tea like any good Brit. She stirred some milk into her own cup, then paused, wondering how Jane took her tea.

Grimacing, she dumped in more sugar than she thought necessary. She had a hunch Jane would have a sweet tooth.

The journey to the bakery was oddly nerve wracking. Yaz wasn’t sure why her heart was beating so fast; surely Jane would appreciate the gesture, right?

As she rounded the corner into the familiar alleyway, Yaz shouldered open the brilliantly blue door, making sure not to drop either of the paper cups she was holding.

She spotted Jane, head bowed over a book propped open on the counter. At the sound of the door closing, her head shot up, blonde hair flying everywhere. A pair of reading glasses sat perched on her nose and Yaz gulped at the sight.

The woman’s face split into an absolutely stunning smile as she placed the glasses on top of her head, then, seeming to think better of it, sticking them in the front pocket of her apron.

“Yaz!”

Yaz tried to ignore the little flutter in her stomach that the woman had remembered her name.

“I was hoping you'd come back. Did I make an impression yesterday?” she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Yaz laughed and leaned against the counter across from her. “Yes, but to be fair, I’d think anyone who found you like I did would be impressed upon. But, I’m actually back because I wanted to repay you. And also check to make sure you hadn’t got up to any more catastrophes.”

She giggled as she slid one of the paper cups toward Jane.

“Fair point, Yaz. I wish I could promise that this shop is usually less chaotic, but I’m afraid that’d be a lie. But really, don’t feel like you have to pay me back for anything, getting to meet you was payment enough.”

Jane froze and Yaz saw her cheeks go red as the words left her mouth. She was sure that her own face was heating up as well, as she watched Jane bury her face in her cuppa. She lowered her hands, humming contentedly and practically beaming at Yaz.

“How did you know exactly how I liked it! This is brilliant!”

“Well, it’s about half sugar, I sort of guessed, but figured since you were a baker and all -”

“It’s perfect, Yaz. Thank you.”

And she spoke so softly that Yaz felt the heat in her face spread to her ears. Flustered, Yaz cleared her throat in a bid to get rid of some of her awkward tension and leaned over the counter, vaguely entering Jane’s personal space. She snuck a peak at the book that was still open between them. It looked like a travel guide, the glossy page showing a dozen sea turtles suspended in crystal clear water. The picture, Yaz realized, matched the flecks of green floating in Jane’s eyes. Eyes that were now very close to her own.

Yaz leaned back abruptly and shook her head. “So, you like to travel?” she squeaked out.

“Oh, I’d love to,” the blonde sighed. “Ever since I can remember, I’ve just felt this- this wanderlust. I want to see Norway, Peru, Madagascar, China! Everywhere really.”

Her eyes were lit up with unadulterated enthusiasm, and Yaz felt herself smile fondly as the other woman waved her hands around.

“It’s just a bit out of reach, is all. Someday, I’ll finally get out of this city.”

The thought twisted Yaz’s gut, but she didn’t know why. She’d only just met Jane yesterday, and her presence in Yaz’s life had started by pure coincidence.

“You’ve never left? Gone away somewhere?”

Jane shook her head, a hint of sorrow flashing in her eyes. “Money’s tight. Don’t really make a ton of _dough_ here.” Jane looked at her expectantly, seemingly trying to keep a straight face.

Yaz stifled a groan, biting her tongue between her teeth to keep from laughing. She thought she maybe saw Jane’s eyes glance down for a moment, but she’d probably imagined it.

“Get it, Yaz, y’know, Cockney rhyming slang, it’s, y’know, like bread and honey, mone-”

“I got it, thanks!” Yaz broke out laughing. “Maybe you’d have more dough if you didn’t give away your product to complete strangers like me,” she pointed out.

“Well, we aren’t strangers anymore, are we?” Jane said, taking another sip from her cup. “You let me call you Yaz, and you said that's what your friends call you! _And_ you’ve come all this way with tea, and now I’m drinking it in the good faith you aren’t trying to poison me, if that isn’t _at least_ acquaintanceship, I don’t know what is.”

“If I _had_ added poison, I’d have to arrest myself, wouldn’t I? Only poison in this is an ungodly amount of sugar,” she finished with a chuckle.

Jane gasped and clutched onto the display case beside her dramatically. “Hush, Yaz, don’t talk like that in here, she’ll hear you!”

Yaz glanced around, bemusedly trying to work out who Jane was referencing. But as she spotted the woman continuing to stroke the side of the display case, it dawned on her that Jane had been talking about the shop.

How oddly endearing.

Before Yaz got a chance to ask Jane about the implied life of the bakery around them, the other woman had already ducked behind the display case she’d been fondling and was filling a paper bag with various miscellaneous baked goods.

As she popped up from behind the glass, she fished a pen out of her apron pocket, and yanked the cap off with her teeth. She scribbled something along the edge of the paper and folded the top over on itself.

“Well, since you _have_ come all this way, I suppose the least I can do is offer these,” she grinned, bouncing the bag between her hands almost nervously.

“At least let me pay you this tim-”

Jane shook her head vigorously, blonde hair whipping against her cheeks. “Consider it a down payment on help in the future, Yaz.”

“In case you need to reach any more heavy things on high shelves,” Yaz teased.

“Oi, it’s not the weight that’s the problem,” Jane scoffed. She flexed her arms with a cheeky grin and Yaz felt her mouth go dry at the sight.

She laughed nervously as Jane extended the bag toward her.

“Y’know, I’m starting to suspect you’re _trying_ to just pump me full of sugar.”

Jane blushed. “I mean, I imagine you have to stay pretty fit to be on the force. If you don’t eat them all, you can bring them home to your family or- or if you’re dating someone, maybe they’d enjoy a bite,” she shrugged.

“Nah, no boyfriend for me,” Yaz said, trying not to sound too disappointed by that fact. “But I suspect my sister would enjoy these, she’s the one who usually frequents sugar highs.”

Yaz caught Jane’s smile falter just slightly, but she perked up at the mention of Sonya.

“Oh, you’ve a sister then?”

“Yeah, she’s a right prat. Don’t know if I’m really in the sharing mood, though, your pastries are _unbelievable_. I’m starting to suspect I should put you under official investigation for adding addictive illicit substances to your food.”

Laughter spilled from Jane’s lips and shook her entire narrow frame, so infectious that it made Yaz break out into a fit of giggles herself. As both women started to calm down, Yaz saw Jane wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. She tensed up slightly, hoping it was just from the laughter.

“I mean, these _are_ full of sugar, which can be addictive, but I wouldn’t exactly call it illicit.”

“All right, I’ll let you off this time. But I’ll be keeping my eye on you,” Yaz quipped, reaching for the bag Jane was finally extending toward her. Her fingers brushed against Jane’s, and without realizing, she was pulling back a little too quickly. Fast enough that Jane hadn’t let go yet, and a loud ripping sound echoed through the room.

The top bit of the bag was torn, and Yaz furrowed her brows as she spotted Jane shove the scrap of paper still between her fingers into her apron, looking sheepish.

“Oh, Yaz, I’m so sorry, sometimes my hands and my brain just-”

“No, no, that’s perfectly alright. Thank you for these, really. I suspect pretty soon we’ll just be trapped in a never ending cycle of tea deliveries and pastry takeaway.”

“I wouldn’t mind that at all, Yaz. Stars know I could use some company in here.”

“Are you always alone here?”

Jane paused, looking thoughtful for a moment. “We don’t get a lot of customers. But in my experience, people seem to find this place who need it. There’s no telling the power a cupcake can have in your life.”

Yaz smiled at the syrupy sweetness of the sentiment, shaking her head fondly. “No, silly, I meant are you the only one who works here?”

The other woman’s cheeks went a lovely shade of pink as she realized her blunder. “Oh, right! Nah, another bloke works here with me, I just like to get here early, is all.”

Before Yaz could follow that line of questioning, the radio on her shoulder crackled to life, causing both women to jump. She shot Jane an apologetic look as she answered the call, already backing toward the door.

“Sorry, duty calls,” she said, not quite wanting to leave yet.

“Of course, go defend the city,” Jane said, giving a salute.

Yaz smiled, turning at the last second and finally inspecting the rim of her bag. Her eyes ran over the surface, not seeing anything written on it, apart from a smudge of ink near the tear that looked suspiciously like the number thirteen.

Yaz’s mind shifted back into police mode as she hurried out to deal with the call. In her rush, she missed the longing look Jane gave her as Yaz disappeared out of her life again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry this chapter was a bit long. I’m a tad worried the pacing is too slow (even though it _is_ a slow burn), so I’m thinking about maybe moving the dinner party to next chapter, but if not, it’ll be the chapter after that! See ya next Friday!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, an update two days early? Well, I’ve had the worst day ever so I made the executive decision to post this now, maybe it can bring someone out there a little joy today.
> 
> How’s everyone doing after that finale? Still alive, I hope? This chapter probably won’t do much against everything that happened (and that cliffhanger, I’m not alright with _that_ one bit), but hopefully it’s soft enough to start the hiatus out right.
> 
> Also, this upcoming week is exam week for me so if I take a while to respond to comments, it’s because I’m drowning in revisions. And if I reply quickly, I’m procrastinating, so it could really go either way! I promise I will try my best to have another chapter up on Friday, because that one is where things are going to start to pick up a bit!

Yaz didn’t show up the next morning. Or the morning after that. Or the morning after _that_.

Jane tried not to take it personally. It’s not like Yaz had an obligation to return. If anything, Jane should have been relieved. She knew she’d made a fool of herself in front of Yaz; that was probably why she hadn’t come back.

She groaned, thunking her forehead on the counter and pushing her fingers through her hair. Sighing, Jane shoved her hands in her apron in a feeble attempt to not muss up her hair more than it already was. Her fingers brushed against the scrap of paper she had forgotten she hid there. She dejectedly pulled out the bag fragment, staring at her phone number in dismay.

Luckily, Yaz hadn’t questioned her about the bag tearing. Jane figured that her previously showcased clumsiness went far enough to explain it. She was just relieved Yaz hadn’t realized she was trying to give her her number.

She’d said she didn’t have a boyfriend. _Boy_ friend. If that wasn’t a hint, Jane didn’t know what was.

She would just have to hope Yaz wouldn’t come back into the bakery. Jane wasn’t sure she could tamp down her growing crush if she did come back.

* * *

Hours later, Jane locked the front door to the shop and started toward the grocer’s. It had been a really long day. When Ryan had come in, he’d pestered Jane as soon as he saw the look on her face, first in jest and then in genuine concern. She appreciated that he cared about her, but she had just been in a mardy mood, and didn’t feel like explaining why she was sulking. Especially because she was sulking over someone she never even had a chance with.

She hadn’t told Ryan or the rest of the O’Brien’s she would be joining them for dinner yet. She’d told herself it was in case she changed her mind, but she knew deep down that she really did want to go and enjoy the company.

But she figured if she was going to be a good guest, she should at least bring something over. Jane hadn’t been invited over for many meals in her life, but she did know it was customary to bring something along to add to the table.

Hence her current journey around Tesco. Jane tried not to grumble about Ryan ribbing her about this being the only place she went to get out of the flat. And even if he _was_ right, he didn’t need to think that.

Her mood soured as she wove through the aisles, chucking foodstuffs into her trolley and jumping up onto the back of it when she happened upon an empty row. 

As time passed, she found herself parked right in front of a tall tower of champagne. That would be something normal to bring to a dinner, right? She surveyed her options, settling on one on the very top.

Furrowing her brows and sticking her tongue between her teeth in determination, Jane hopped up on the bottom of her trolley, stretching up on her tiptoes. But the bottle remained stubbornly just out of reach.

A voice floated up from behind her. “Need a hand?”

“Nah, Goonies _never_ say die, y’know, I think I’ve got - Yaz!”

Jane swayed as she turned around, surprised to see the woman she had been trying not to obsess over for the last few days. In her shock, she lost her footing on the trolley and felt it start to slide away from her.

She felt Yaz’s arms wrap around her waist as she fell toward the mountain of glass bottles, and for a split second, she melted into the contact. But her momentum was too much and, with a yelp, Yaz tumbled backwards, landing just shy of knocking over the entire display.

Yaz also landed very much underneath Jane. Dazed, it took Jane a moment to register that she was sprawled out on top of the other woman, face buried in the crook of her neck. Before she could stop herself, she inhaled, taking in the heavenly scent of Yaz’s coconut shampoo.

Realizing she probably shouldn’t be smelling Yaz’s hair, Jane put a hand either side of Yaz’s head and started to push herself off, trapping the other woman underneath her. She tried not to think about how the entire length of Yaz’s body was pressed against her own, how a leg was wedged between hers, how their lips were so close, how her chest -

Jane felt her face start to burn and she scrambled off Yaz, apologies spilling from her lips. She reached out a hand, pulling Yaz to her feet as she tried to brush off Jane’s rambling.

Sighing as they both managed to get upright again, Jane looked Yaz up and down, telling herself it was just to check for injuries. Until now, Jane had only seen Yaz in her police uniform. But Jane almost couldn’t bear the sight of Yaz’s street clothes. The leather jacket was perfect and her trousers hugged her perfect -

_Not the time, Jane, not the time!_

An awkward silence settled between them as Jane tried to stop staring like a creep. All the words crashing around inside her head seemed wrong, but she knew she needed to say something, anything to break the tension.

“Didn't see ya this morning - had your donuts all ready!”

_Not that, stop that, stop talking!_

As Yaz opened her mouth, presumably to explain her absence, Jane panicked, realizing she didn’t want Yaz to feel guilty.

“I like your jacket!”

Yaz blinked in surprise, probably confused by the sudden change in subject. She looked down at her outfit and smiled, smoothing down the collar. “Thanks, Jane, it’s pretty much my favorite, so hopefully it suits me,” she finished with a grin.

 _It does, it really does, so, so well, Yaz._ Jane’s eyes widened and she gulped down the stray thought.

Before Jane could respond, Yaz gestured toward the thankfully still intact champagne display. “So, which one were you going for? Y’know, before you nearly knock down a tower of alcohol taller than you,” Yaz smirked, raising a hand and hovering it near the top.

“Yaz, I think you’re shorter than I am!”

“Yeah, but if you knock anything over here it’ll be a lot worse than in the privacy of your own shop, don’t cha think?”

Jane grimaced, then couldn’t hold in a smile when Yaz started giggling. She pointed out the bottle she had been aiming for with a sheepish grin.

Yaz stretched up, rising onto her toes to reach the champagne. The hem of her shirt rose up just enough to reveal a thin sliver of skin.

Jane gulped at the sight.

Luckily, her gaze couldn’t linger long as Yaz snatched the bottle and set it gently in Jane’s trolley. She furrowed her brows at the contents.

“That is - that’s really a lot of biscuits ya got there.” The number of packets thrown onto the pile of groceries was surely more than one human could consume.

Jane brightened considerably. “You can never have too many custard creams, Yaz!”

Yaz laughed. “But you’re a baker, can’t you make those yourself?”

“Oh, I can, mine are ace, but at the rate I eat these, I’d never be able to keep up with the demand. Custard creams would be the only thing I’d ever be able to bake, and then I wouldn’t have a bakery any more, I’d just be a biscuit shop, but I wouldn’t even be able to sell anything because I’d eat all the merchandise.” Jane sucked in a deep breath, making a conscious effort to cut off her own rambling.

“I guess I’ll have to try them sometime, then,” Yaz grinned.

Jane felt like her smile was going to crack her cheeks. “Oh, you definitely should, Yaz, they’re brilliant, if I do say so myself. And if you don’t believe me, my mate from the shop thinks they’re great as well, some of these packets will probably get hoovered up by him if I don’t beat him to it. Actually, this is for him, too,” she rushed out, gesturing toward the bottle of champagne that looked so out of place amongst the sweets. “His family invited me over, and I wasn’t really sure if I should bring something, or what I should even bring, but I thought maybe they’d like this, ‘cause they’re such great people and I wanted them to know I appreciated - I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

Jane’s heart swelled as Yaz giggled again. “A little, but it’s charming.”

Before Jane could overanalyze _that_ , she soldiered on, trying to cover her flustered state with more words. “But hey, if you come back, you might get a chance to meet him! He’s a great kid, you’d like him, I think,” Jane grinned. She had a feeling Yaz and Ryan would get on swimmingly.

“Is that just a way to get me to come back to your shop? Need more business?” Jane’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline, but Yaz was grinning at her again and she relaxed.

But then Yaz’s eyebrows furrowed in thought and Jane was right back on edge.

“What did you say before? About never saying die?”

Jane scronched her nose for a moment before her face lit up in recognition. “Oh, y’know, it’s from _The Goonies_.”

Yaz’s forehead crinkled as she gave a small shrug.

“Y’know,” Jane carried on. “The film?”

Yaz shook her head and frowned, still looking vaguely confused.

“Yaz, please tell me you’ve seen _Goonies_!”

She smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, can’t say that I have.”

Jane balked. This was completely unacceptable.

“How! How have you never seen _Goonies_! It’s like, the best movie of all time!”

Yaz shrugged again, biting back a smile. “I just don’t watch many films.”

Jane literally felt her jaw drop. She stared at Yaz as if she were an alien; had she really never watched _The Goonies_?

“I’ve tried, I swear! I just always fall asleep before they end.”

“There’s no way you’d fall asleep for this one, Yaz. It’s too incredible, nobody in the history of the universe has ever been bored by this film.”

“Is that an official statistic?”

“Yep!” Jane grinned, and Yaz laughed, shaking her head fondly.

“Alright, alright, I’ll give it a watch, I promise,” Yaz smiled. “I can make no such promise about being conscious for the ending, though.”

Jane shook her head. “Nuh-uh, Yaz, that’s unacceptable, the ending is the best part! It’s now my moral obligation - nay, my sacred duty to show you this film, Yaz. It’s a cultural touchstone, you can’t keep living your life in the dark like this!”

Yaz’s face broke into a grin as she shook her head, giving in. “Alright, alright, I’ll watch it with you! Here, gimme your number and I’ll message you,” she said, starting to reach for the phone in her pocket.

But before she could, Jane grabbed Yaz’s hand before she lost her nerve and flipped it over, snatching a pen out of her pocket and gently inking her phone number into Yaz’s skin. Jane couldn’t stop her thumb from smoothing over the soft skin of Yaz’s knuckles as she wrote, but as soon as she realized what she was doing, she scribbled down the last digits as fast as possible.

As she tried to force herself to let go, Jane leaned in, blowing gently against Yaz’s hand, telling herself it was to help the ink dry and not just an excuse to hold her hand for just a few seconds more.

When Jane finally tore her eyes away from Yaz’s hand and met her eyes, she realized the other woman was blushing.

“You goober, you could have just typed it in my phone,” she giggled. Jane’s heart leapt at both the sound and the fact that Yaz hadn’t pulled her hand away yet.

“Well, this way you’ll definitely remember to send me a text,” she quipped, scrunching up her nose. She patted Yaz’s hand and dropped it awkwardly, staring at her feet and rubbing the back of her neck to try and disperse some of her nervous tension.

“I will, I promise,” Yaz said, bending over to pick up the basket she had dropped at her feet. “But right now, I really have to run.”

Jane nodded seriously, giving Yaz a salute as she headed toward the till. The other woman laughed as she backed away, giving Jane a small wave as she finally turned her back to her.

Jane turned away herself, doing a little happy dance, praying Yaz wouldn’t turn around and see her.

She did.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, the last few days have been insane and I’m sure Friday the 13th will bring us new surprises, but I hope everyone is doing alright in these unsure times. Maybe instead of thinking of today as unlucky, we can reimagine it as 13's Day. Also, I’m sure a lot of universities have gone remote like mine has, so hopefully this is something that can keep you a little occupied and distracted!
> 
> And I realized that since I posted a bit early last week, you lot had to wait a bit longer for this next chapter, so sorry about that! But I’m hoping this is the point where things really start to kick off. Also, big thank you to the legends in the Discord chat for helping out with that darn writer’s block and tricky grammar bits! Enjoy!

Jane Smith was stubbornly refusing to get out of Yaz’s head and she didn’t understand why. They’d only met recently, and even then, they’d only interacted a few times. The woman was just so endearing, it was almost unbearable to think about, and yet it was all Yaz seemed able to think about.

The goofy happy dance Yaz had accidentally witnessed at the grocer’s shoved its way back into her thoughts, and she felt her mouth smile without her brain’s permission.

Yaz felt oddly elated at the idea of spending more time with Jane. She'd seemed excited to watch that film with Yaz, but maybe she just needed a friend; the bakery seemed empty enough most days.

Yaz stared at the numbers scrawled on her hand, dragging a thumb carefully around the skin so as not to smudge the ink. What was she supposed to say? She had never been great over text, and a call seemed out of the question.

_Hey, Jane, it’s Yaz, you remember me right?_

No way, too self conscious.

_Hi, is this Jane? I’m hoping so, my hand got sweaty and your number rubbed-_

What, no, don’t say that.

_Jane, is your hair as soft as it looks?_

Whoa, where had that come from.

She shook her head, resolving to figure it out later. Her old school mate, Ryan, had invited her ‘round for Sunday roast with his grandparents, and she was nearly to his front door.

Yaz walked up, punctual as always, and knocked on the door. She didn’t have to wait long before Ryan’s step-grandfather, Graham, threw open the door and wrapped her in a hug.

“Ah, Yaz, wonderful! You alright, love?” he said, clapping her on the shoulder.

“Yeah, ‘course, it’s good to see you, Graham,” she replied with a grin.

Before he could respond, he was cut off by his wife’s voice floating out of the kitchen. “I’m just chuffed to bits you decided to come, love.”

As Graham ushered her inside, Yaz shrugged out of her coat and raised an eyebrow at him, wondering who Grace could be talking to.

“Ryan’s invited a mate from his new job, hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, course I don’t! Has he left the warehouse then?”

“Yes, he has,” Ryan piped up, appearing in the doorway and pulling Yaz in for a bear hug. “Down at the BBC now.”

“Oh, telly! That’s so cool, Ry-“

He waved a hand, laughing heartily. “Nah, nah, it’s an acronym. Shop I work at, the owner calls it _Between the Butcher and the Candlestick Maker_ , y’know, like the nursery rhyme? I suppose it’s a bit of a silly name for a shop, even if it is technically unofficial.”

Yaz counted on her fingers, squinting at him. “Seems like you’re missing a few letters in there, mate.”

“Yeah, well, less of a mouthful, don’t ya think? She’s kinda indecisive, she keeps flipping between calling it that and Tasty, Appetizing, Rising Dough in Sheffield, which has an acronym that’s at least a bit more pronounceable, I reckon. Don’t understand why she won’t just call it J-”

He jumped as a pop rang out from the kitchen. It sounded like Grace had just opened a bottle of champagne. Ryan clutched his chest dramatically, trying to calm his racing heart as nervous laughter escaped his lips.

“Anyway, _lots_ of acronyms with this woman, Yaz. She’s actually here, you’ll like her, she’s a real riot.”

A warning bell went off in Yaz’s brain, and she was sure it wasn’t because of the startling noise.

Graham smiled proudly before starting to steer her and Ryan toward the kitchen. “They’re basically perfect for each other, Yaz, practically the same person, I tell ya! It’s a wonder they manage to get anything done without burning the place down though. Couple of disasters, they are!”

 _Good for Ryan_ , Yaz thought. She was glad he had found someone.

The feeling disappeared when she followed Graham into the kitchen and spotted who was currently holding a bottle cork, laughing with Grace.

_Jane._

She was wearing a maroon jumper with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows. A rainbow stripe stretched across her chest, something Yaz had to make a conscious effort not to stare at.

The feeling of joy for Ryan twisted into something akin to jealousy, although Yaz didn’t know why. All the breath was stolen from her lungs and she could feel her jaw wanting to go slack, but she willed herself not to panic.

Grace spotted her and placed a gentle hand on Jane’s shoulder, turning her attention away from the champagne and orange juice she was currently mixing into flutes. “Oh, Jane, this is -”

“Yaz?” she squeaked, dropping the cork.

“Jane! Hi!” _Smooth, Yaz._

“What are- what are you doing here?”

Yaz rubbed the back of her neck, trying desperately not to make eye contact with anyone in the room. “Ryan and I, we went to primary toget- sorry, what are _you_ doing here?”

“Sa- well, not same, Ryan, he works at the bakery, said I could come over.”

Ryan held up his hands, looking confused. “Wait, hold up, time out, do you two know each other?”

Grace was glancing back and forth between them, seemingly curious about the sudden tension.

“Yaz has been in the shop a bit, that’s all,” Jane shrugged, trying to look nonchalant.

Ryan’s eyes darted between the two, suspicious. Suddenly, a look of shock flashed across his face and his mouth dropped open, a gasp escaping his lips as he put the pieces together.

“You’ve been in- recently? In the shop? In her shop?” he almost yelled, gesturing wildly between the pair.

Jane looked panicked, trying to brush Ryan off. But he wouldn’t be so easily swayed. A manic look flashed in his eye as he spotted a bit of writing on Yaz’s skin.

“Yaz, what’s that you’ve got written on your hand?” he pointed with almost childish glee.

Reflexively, Yaz shoved her hand in her pocket. A flicker of hurt flashed across Jane’s face, and Yaz was overwhelmed by the feeling that she never wanted to see that look there again.

Before she could say anything, Yaz recoiled as Grace thumped Ryan upside the back of the head. It couldn’t wipe the grin off his face though, and as he opened his mouth to say more, she gave his shoulder a light shove, leading him away from the kitchen and the two women.

“Graham, love, come help us set the table, will you?” she said, not really giving him much of an option as she grabbed his hand and tugged.

“I’m proper confused,” Graham muttered as he was ushered away.

And just like that, they were alone together. Yaz stared after the fleeing trio, unable to tear her gaze away and catch Jane’s eye. But when she finally worked up the nerve, the other woman had stepped closer, blushing madly.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Jane whispered conspiratorially.

“Fancy that. I think this is the universe telling us we need to be friends,” Yaz quipped back, surprising herself. But as the words sunk into her heart, she realized that she really, truly meant them.

Jane grinned wide, seeming to lose some of her nervousness. “But we’re already friends, Yaz.”

“Oh, are we now?” she responded playfully.

“Yep! I've already decided. I mean, I call you Yaz, don’t I? And you said only your friends call you Yaz.” Jane looked as if she had just made the winning move in a chess match.

Yaz hummed thoughtfully. “That _is_ a pretty good point. Alriiiiiight, you win. We can be friends.”

And the smile that broke out on Jane’s face absolutely melted Yaz’s heart.

“Brilliant! But, y’know, friends do text friends when they’ve got their mobile number,” she said with a smirk.

Yaz gave a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of her neck to hide the string of numbers still on her skin. “I know, I know, I’m sorry, really. I just- I didn’t know what to say, and I didn’t want to sound weird and-”

“That’s alright, Yaz!” Jane cut her off, beaming. “Although, I will still hold you to movie night.” Her smile faltered. “Unless- unless you don’t want to, that’s totally fine, no worr-”

This time it was Yaz’s turn to interrupt Jane’s nervous rambling. “No! I’d love to, really, I would, that- that’d be fantastic.”

Yaz hadn’t realized that they’d been drifting closer to each other throughout the banter, but she was so close now that she was getting lost in the depths of Jane’s eyes. A comfortable silence fell over the pair as Yaz tried to stay afloat.

Suddenly, the door banged open and they jumped apart as Ryan reappeared, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“Oh, ladies. Food is served,” Ryan punctuated, poking his head around the corner and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

He disappeared and they glanced back at each other before bursting into a fit of nervous giggles.

“Right, we should,” Yaz gestured after their friend.

Jane nodded and brushed past Yaz, grazing her hand on her shoulder as she opened the door for her. “After you, m’lady,” she said with a bow.

And as Yaz crossed the threshold, beaming at Jane, Grace could see something on Yaz’s face. She wondered when Yaz would figure it out for herself. Figure out that she was starting to fall for Jane Smith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I think I'm funny, don't I? I really hope at least one person understands that nursery rhyme joke, I _am_ kinda proud of it. I'm sure nobody was pressed to find out the name of the bakery, but now you have _two_ names, so I guess you're all welcome.
> 
> Also, tomorrow is Pi Day! Treat yourself in these trying times and eat some pie!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's day two of quarantine and I'm already getting antsy enough to post this chapter a day early. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Animal Crossing releases tonight and I will most likely not get a single shred of writing done until I've completed the museum!
> 
> Luckily, I've got a bit of a stockpile built up! Since I was supposed to be going to London tomorrow with my university, I'd written a bit ahead, so even though the trip got cancelled, I've got some progress already on next chapter. I think you all will like it, this one ends on a tiny (soft) cliffhanger, so next chapter will hopefully be juicy! Enjoy!

“She got proper pissed off half a can of G&T, tried to take biscuits out the oven with her bare hands!”

Jane flushed beet red and buried her face in her hands. She felt Graham place a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she also noticed he couldn’t actually stop himself from chuckling at her expense.

“Once! That happened one time, Ryan,” she squeaked out through her fingers.

Jane really wasn’t sure when this conversation had turned to roasting her. She shook her head and dropped her hands to the table and, to her surprise, Yaz reached out and laid a comforting hand over hers. It was warm and soft and suddenly all Jane could focus on.

“Hey, you don’t have to be embarrassed. I mean, you do remember how we met, right?”

If it was possible for Jane’s face to get any brighter, it would have. She knew Yaz had meant the words to be comforting, but they had the side effect of making everyone else around the table perk up in interest.

“I don’t believe we’ve had the privilege of hearing that particular story, Yaz,” Ryan said cheekily. “Please, do tell.”

Yaz seemed to realize her mistake and turned to Jane with a panicked look in her eyes. Of course, Jane wasn’t angry at her, so, to lighten the mood, she decided to sacrifice yet another mortifying tale from her past.

“Maybe you should tell Yaz about Halloween instead?” she gritted out, trying her hardest not to look like she was in pain. She distracted herself by downing the rest of her drink in one gulp.

His face lit up at the memory. “Jane decided to dress up as that monster from _Goonies_! But she couldn’t see through the mask and took a tumble down a flight of stairs!”

Jane saw concern flash across Yaz’s face, but Ryan’s laughter at the accident seemed to convince her it wasn’t that serious and her shoulders relaxed.

“His name is Sloth, Ry,” she whined, bashful as ever.

He brushed her off, mischief gleaming in his eyes. “I will say, the Superman shirt and braces were a good look on you. Maybe you should show it to Yaz sometime? Just so ya know that Jane is muuuuuch cuter than Sloth in real life.”

Jane choked on the sip of Buck’s Fizz she’d just taken. Truly, the last thing she needed right now was Ryan trying to play wingman.

She shot Yaz a panicked look. The other woman had gone bright red as Ryan wiggled his eyebrows at them.

Thankfully, Grace came to their rescue, returning to the table at that exact moment with more champagne flutes. She lightly swatted him on their behalf as she sat down. “Ryan Sinclair! What are we going to do with you, boy?”

He raised his hands in surrender, but the cheeky smirk on his face revealed his true intentions. “Nan, I’m just trying to keep the conversation flowing! I mean, who wouldn’t want to talk about the time Jane tried to give out her number by writing it on a pastry ba-”

“Ryan, you’ve known Yaz since primary, right? Surely you’ve got some choice stories about her,” Jane cut him off, but instantly regretted turning his ire around on Yaz.

She shot Yaz an apologetic look, and her blush deepened. Jane thought she looked particularly cute like this, but now wasn’t really the time to be thinking that, was it?

“Oh, loads! How about that time she made a kid cry during a football match?”

“You made another child cry?!” That wasn’t what Jane had been expecting. Wait, was she talking too loud?

Yaz grimaced, rubbing the back of her neck. “I _might_ have _accidentally_ kicked the ball into his face after he revealed himself to be a sexist prat. Allegedly.”

“With talk like that, no wonder you grew up to become a copper,” Graham chuckled.

“Police office,” Grace and Ryan pointed out simultaneously, like they had corrected him before.

Everyone laughed, and Jane wasn’t sure she entirely understood what was funny, but she joined in anyway. The sudden movement made the room spin a bit, and she shot a hand up to press into her eyes.

“You feeling alright there, you’re looking a bit red in the face?” Graham leaned towards her.

From the alcohol or the humiliating storytime, Jane couldn’t tell. But she could tell that her cheeks were heating up, and the air around the table was starting to seem a bit hazier.

“I’ve been making yours lighter, Janie, dear, you are a bit of a lightweight,” Grace smiled kindly, shooting her a wink.

Jane hiccuped then blinked slowly, her eyes shifting in and out of focus.

She did catch sight of Yaz, who looked her up and down with concern.

“How many have you had?”

“No more than you, I’ve been trying to keep up,” Jane replied with a lazy shrug.

“Jane, mine’ve just been juice!” Yaz looked distressed suddenly, and Jane wanted desperately for her not to be. But she could feel the penny drop much slower than it should’ve, and when she realized she was probably moving past tipsy, a giggle escaped her lips.

Yaz gave an exasperated sigh. Jane was sure she probably had to deal with plenty of drunk people on the job. But, her tone sounded almost amused, much to Jane’s relief.

“Do you live close, I can walk you home?” 

Jane perked up at the suggestion, suddenly wanting nothing else in the universe more.

“You know where I live, Yaz.”

Yaz furrowed her eyebrows, apparently waiting for Jane to elaborate on the cryptic statement.

Ryan jumped in. “Her flat's above the bakery, mate.”

Recognition dawned in Yaz’s eyes and she grinned. “Ah, your place must smell amazing.”

“You want to come up and smell it?” If she had been sober, Jane was sure she would have been mortified by that statement. But, luckily, alcohol did wonders on your pride.

She felt Yaz grab her arm and gently hoist her out of her chair, careful that she didn’t topple over. Jane was vaguely aware of Yaz offering to help Graham clear up, and she giggled at his almost horrified response to the mere suggestion.

The pair waved goodbye, Jane more enthusiastically than usual, which was really saying something.

As they stepped into the evening air, Jane shivered at the slight breeze. She felt Yaz wrap an arm around her shoulder and rub her arm, trying to warm her up, and she suddenly wished she was completely lucid so she could fully appreciate the gesture.

The walk to her flat was enjoyable for Jane and probably frustrating for Yaz. They were pressed together, Yaz’s arm still slung around Jane’s shoulder to keep her walking upright.

And, if she was being totally honest with herself, Jane just _might_ have been exaggerating a bit about just how inebriated she actually was.

“At least you’re walking straight,” Yaz perked up eventually, rubbing her thumb into Jane’s shoulder.

“About the only thing about me that is,” she mumbled, head lolling into the crook of Yaz’s neck. She froze.

_Abort abort abort!_

Her eyes widened in alarm; she hadn’t meant for that, of all things, to slip out.

But to Yaz’s credit, she didn’t appear fazed. She just gently ushered Jane along, for which Jane was very grateful.

After what simultaneously felt like forever and not nearly enough time, they stopped in front of a familiar blue door. Jane fumbled with the keys, brushing Yaz away when she tried to assist. Finally finding the keyhole, she threw her shoulder into the wood with a bit too much force and stumbled inside the dark bakery.

Yaz startled, lurching forward to grab her shoulder and make sure she didn’t fall over. Her thumb had landed on the skin just past the collar of her jumper, and Jane suppressed a shiver at the contact.

Tearing herself out of her own thoughts, Jane groped around for the lights, wincing as she found the switch and brightness flooded her eyeballs, briefly blinding her.

Without thinking too hard about it, she grabbed Yaz’s hand and led her to the stairs up to her flat. She was met with another locked door, and she groaned as she realized she would have to deal with more keys.

Yaz must have been able to read her thoughts, because she snatched them out of Jane’s hand and held open the door for her. _At least chivalry isn’t dead_ , Jane thought as she blushed.

Her flat was cozy to her, but what people often said _had a lot of character_ , which was just a way to say chaotic in a polite manner. She thought it suited herself well.

There were books strewn across nearly every available surface, and crammed bookshelves lined the walls. A faded purple sofa was covered with fluffy blankets, perfect for a night in. Which, admittedly, was most nights.

“Will you drink some water for me?” Yaz asked softly, leading her toward the sofa.

_I’d do anything for you._

The thought remained in Jane’s head as she pointed out the kitchen to Yaz. It was spotless, unlike the front room. Various appliances lined the counters and she made a mental note to explain some of them to Yaz when she had more precise movement back in her hands.

She could also show her other things with her hands.

_Stop that!_

She mentally berated herself. Jane was hoping Yaz would become a really good friend, and she was praying she wouldn’t do anything now to jeopardize that chance. _Just keep your mouth shut!_

Interrupting her internal dilemma, Yaz returned with a cold glass of water. Jane gulped it down, not even caring that some of it splashed onto her chin. She pulled a sleeve of her jumper over her hand and wiped at her face, grinning stupidly.

Yaz smiled down at her. “Will you be alright, do you need help getting ready for bed or anything?”

Thoughts went where they weren’t supposed to again, and Jane pressed her lips together, shaking her head vigorously.

But Jane really didn’t want Yaz to leave just yet.

“Cards!” she blurted out.

Yaz raised an eyebrow at her.

“Let’s play cards,” Jane said, a bit calmer this time. “The night is still young, and I’m in the mood to slam- for slam!”

Yaz thankfully didn’t point out her slip of the tongue, and she suppressed a sigh of relief.

“Hmm, I’m not sure how good you’ll be at slam right now. I think you’re still pretty pissed. And besides, even if you were totally sober, I’m still not sure you’d have a chance of beating me,” Yaz grinned, a challenge in her voice.

“Oh, it’s on, Yaz,” Jane retorted, rolling up her sleeves and snatching up a deck of cards.

Jane lost thirteen matches in a row.

She stared in disbelief as Yaz shuffled the deck again, mesmerized as she bridged the cards.

“Shall we stop at a baker’s dozen? Or are you still in the mood to lose?” Yaz teased.

“Let’s do something else!”

Yaz raised an eyebrow at her. Jane backpedaled, nervous that she was overstepping some unknown boundary.

“Unless you have to go,” she pouted, giving what she hoped were her best puppy dog eyes.

Yaz smiled and set down the deck. “No, no, that’s alright, I can stay, it’s not too late yet,” she stuttered out, seemingly caught off guard. “What do you want to do?”

Jane pondered for a moment, before lighting up with an idea. “Watch a film? You _did_ promise you’d watch _The Goonies_ with me, after all.”

Yaz made a show of pretending to think about it. “Only if I get to see a photo of you dressed up like that Sloth Superman guy,” Yaz shot back with a smirk.

Jane fought back a smile, glad Yaz had remembered that from earlier.

“Deal. But only if you manage to stay awake until the end.”

“I’ll certainly try my best, but no promises,” she grinned.

Stumbling like a newborn giraffe, Jane shot up and set up the film, albeit a tad clumsily. She plopped back on the sofa, snatching a blanket and patting the spot next to her. Yaz joined her, thigh almost touching her own, and Jane threw the blanket over both of them, settling in as she started the movie.

* * *

As the film progressed, it was getting harder and harder to concentrate. Yaz’s leg was now pressed flush against Jane’s own, and she could feel her body heat through her trousers. Her hand rested in the space between them, almost inviting Jane to hold it.

Jane froze as she felt Yaz’s head rest softly on her shoulder.

But, Jane realized, Yaz didn’t seem to be trying to cuddle. She’d fallen asleep. Of course she had.

“Yaz,” she mumbled into soft brown curls, “wake up, you're gonna miss the ending, there's-” A yawn escaped her lips. “There's a pirate ship, Yaz.”

Jane couldn’t stop herself. She leaned in closer, indulging in the smell of Yaz’s hair.

And before she knew it, she was falling asleep on the best pillow in the universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don’t know how _The Goonies_ became such a big part of this story. I think I heard Jodie mention it once on a panel and now I’ve just run with it.
> 
> Also, I really had a galaxy brain moment here, a baker's dozen is 13 and 13 is a baker in this. Whoa.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seriously can’t believe this story crossed the halfway point last week and hit 10,000 words. That’s insane for me! Legit never thought I’d be able to commit to writing all that. Massive thanks to everyone who has been reading and leaving kudos and writing such lovely comments, they mean so much to me.
> 
> Also, keep an eye out for a bit of an early update next week!

Yaz had never slept so well in her life. She was warm and comfortable, and she just wanted to fall back asleep. Suppressing a yawn, she snuggled further into her pillow and -

Wait - her pillow?

Her pillow was moving.

Yaz froze. She realized with a start that she was laying on top of someone. The body beneath her breathed softly, Yaz rising and falling along with it.

_Jane._

The night before came flooding back to Yaz. The dinner, the drinks, the games, the film. How she had ended up cuddling with Jane on the couch, Yaz wasn’t sure. But the fact that she _was_ shocked her so much that she suddenly jolted fully awake and tumbled off the purple sofa, landing on the floor with a thud.

Cringing, she poked her head over the edge of the sofa, eyeing Jane’s sleeping form. Luckily, the noise hadn’t woken her; Yaz smiled softly at the image of the woman snuggled into the blankets. But she frowned as she noticed Jane’s eyelids shifting rapidly in her sleep, and a crease gradually forming between her brows.

Even though she was still unconscious, Jane looked like she was in distress. Labored breathing slowly began to rack her body, and a quiet whine escaped her lips. Still slow with sleep, Yaz’s sleep-addled brain didn’t know what to do. She panicked, and, assuming Jane was having a nightmare, she gently reached out and shook Jane’s shoulder, hoping to rouse her and rid her of any bad dreams.

But Yaz didn’t think she had the luxury of a gentle awakening. Jane froze suddenly at her touch, and Yaz was so scared that she shouted, probably louder than she needed to.

“Jane! Jane, wake up!”

The noise thankfully startled Jane out of a deep slumber; she bolted upright, looking around briefly for the source of the yelling before clutching her forehead, eyes squeezing shut.

Jane flopped back against the sofa, pressing her face into a cushion with a groan. Yaz chuckled softly, forgetting her brief panic at the situation to reach out and rub a gentle circle into Jane’s back.

“Yaz?” Jane mumbled, voice muffled by the couch. “What- what are you- is it morning already?”

Glancing out the window, Yaz realized they were basked in warm, orange light that was peeking through the shutters

“Looks like it’s nearly sunrise,” she whispered, brushing a strand of messy hair behind Jane’s ear. She turned her face, cracking open an eye to peer at Yaz. A lazy smile flashed across her face before she winced again at the light.

“Were you having a nightmare?”

The smile slipped from Jane’s face, and Yaz was starting to regret asking as a deep frown began to mar her features.

“We missed the end of the movie, Yaz,” Jane whined, face contorting into a pout.

Yaz smirked; two could play at that game. She sighed as she continued running her fingers through Jane’s tangled hair, at least glad she didn’t still seem bothered by the prying question.

“You hungry?”

Jane perked up at that. What she needed at the moment was a good fry up. Without thinking, Yaz leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to Jane’s forehead. And she didn’t know where that had come from, she really didn’t. She hoped she wasn’t being too weird.

Jane didn’t seem to notice though, so Yaz just ruffled her already mussed hair as she pulled herself up, turning toward the kitchen. First thing was first though.

“Drink,” Yaz said firmly, after returning to Jane with some water. She hesitated before returning to the kitchen, making absolutely sure Jane had a solid hold on the cool glass.

Satisfied, Yaz went about the kitchen, gathering together food and cookware. 

“How do you like your eggs?” she called back through the kitchen.

“I trust you, Yaz, whatever you think is best.”

Yaz rolled her eyes and chuckled, plopping some bread in the toaster.

She set a pan on the hob and turned it on, letting it sit to get hot as she cracked eggs into a bowl and started beating them. Everyone liked scrambled eggs, right?

Yaz peeked back at the sofa, where Jane had returned to her previous position, face planted into the cushions. At least she’d gotten some water into her.

As the eggs cooked, she dug through the fridge, finding a pack of sausage and adding it to the veritable smorgasbord she was preparing. The smell of fried meat filled her nostrils and she sighed, content with the way the morning had started.

Yaz rifled through the cupboards, setting a kettle on as she grabbed mugs and tea bags; while she was at it, she refilled the toaster with some more fresh bread, buttering the pieces that had just finished. She put her hands on her hips and took a step back, surveying her work.

Happy with her progress, she gave Jane another cursory glance over on the sofa; thankfully, she was sitting up at this point. She was cross legged, and the sleeves of her maroon jumper had fallen over her hands, which were both wrapped around her water glass.

She really _was_ cuter than Sloth.

Yaz froze as the thought flew through her mind. She felt heat rise in her cheeks as she forced herself to turn back to her task, shaking her head to try and focus on breakfast. She jumped as the toaster popped up, startling her out of her thoughts.

Plating everything in a big, delicious pile, she turned back to Jane. She had slumped back into the sofa, dozing. While she waited for the kettle to boil, Yaz had a moment to look around the flat. She was sure Jane wouldn’t mind.

The bookshelves were crammed and overflowing with all sorts of books - classic literature, travelogue guidebooks, foreign language phrasebooks, cookbooks, and medical textbooks. Yaz yanked one off the top of a haphazard pile, rifling through the pages, skimming through anatomical diagrams and complicated jargon.

“I’m trying to save up. So I can put those books to good use.”

Maybe Jane wasn’t as sleepy as Yaz thought. She turned around, catching a wistful look pass over Jane’s face before it disappeared just as quickly as it had arrived. 

Before Yaz could respond, the boiling kettle ruined the moment, sending her skittering back to the kitchen. She snatched up the hastily prepared plates and poured two mugs of tea, balancing everything and bringing it back to the sofa.

Jane lit up at the sight of the food, practically beaming up at Yaz. She pulled Yaz down next to her, Yaz nearly spilling the plethora of food she was carrying. She landed almost on top of the other woman, but she didn’t seem to mind. They sat pressed together on the sofa, tucking in to their food as a comfortable silence fell over the flat.

“This is just brilliant, Yaz” Jane grinned through a mouthful of toast. She was scarfing down food so fast, Yaz was sure she couldn’t even taste it at her breakneck pace.

Jane paused her onslaught, looking thoughtful. “Not many people know that, y’know. About med school that is. My paren-”

She froze, fork halfway to her lips. Yaz reached out a tentative hand, placing one over Jane’s on the couch.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Yaz assured her.

She shook her head, eyes shining.

“No, it’s alright. They just- they weren’t too enthused when I told them I wanted to be a doctor as a child, that’s all. I haven’t really told many people since, I suppose.”

“Weren’t? Are they now? I’d think most parents would be thrilled if their daughter wanted to be a doctor,” she said, giving Jane’s shoulder a little nudge with her own.

A shadow passed over Jane’s face. “They’re gone,” she finally whispered, a distant look in her eyes. She turned her hand around, linking her fingers with Yaz’s.

Yaz’s heart dropped into her stomach. She hadn’t meant to put that look on Jane’s face, she’d had no idea. “Oh, Jane, I’m so sor-”

“Oh, no need for that, it’s alright!” Her smile seemed forced, but Yaz returned it all the same, albeit a tad reluctantly. It’s not like she was going to force the woman to talk about something as painful as that; Jane had opened up to her, and she didn’t want to push any further than she was ready for, or even willing to for that matter.

“I mean, I love the bakery, I don’t think I’d be ready to give it up just yet. But I’ll get there someday,” she said, trying to be optimistic. “Anyway, you can hold me accountable, yeah?” she perked up, giving Yaz’s hand a squeeze.

Yaz chuckled, pushing some of the food around on her plate. “Of course. I’ll get you a big long lab coat so you can be prepared,” she grinned.

The smile was returned, and Yaz found herself lost in Jane’s gaze. She couldn’t be certain, but she was pretty sure Jane was gravitating toward her, leaning closer as she stared into her eyes. She didn’t know what to say, the moment was too soft, too tender.

“I’m glad we’re friends, Jane.”

A soft smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes spread across Jane’s face. She unlaced their fingers and grabbed for her mug of tea, lifting it to her lips.

“I’m glad I met you, Yaz.”

Jane took a sip of her tea, the heat coloring her cheeks. They stared straight ahead, avoiding each other's gaze, but it didn’t feel awkward to Yaz, it felt right.

And just like that, it felt like a milestone had been reached. Like some invisible barrier had been knocked down.

And Yaz was glad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Jane wants to go to med school, you say? How original of me.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe it’s not a good idea to keep writing a bakery fic in the middle of a quarantine; I’m blaming this for the five pies, two loaves of bread, and batch of gooey butter cookies I’ve made in the past two weeks.
> 
> But sorry that this chapter is a bit late! I was planning on having this up Wednesday for the anniversary of getting my first crappy fic published in a real, actual novel, but I did NOT want the bad vibes around April Fool's Day anywhere near this story. So I wrote this whole thing in a blind panic last night because I still hadn't started it, whoops! I even promised an early update last week, but maybe I can make it up to everyone with a double update next week! If all goes to plan that is, I mean I've clearly proven myself to be unreliable in the past! Anyway, enough rambling, enjoy!

Yaz had left in a hurry after breakfast and now Jane was standing in her bakery, all alone.

They had finished their food in near silence, neither sure what to say to the other. And there was so much Jane had wanted to say.

How thankful she was that Yaz had cooked for her.

How sorry she was that she had inadvertently stayed the night.

How much she loved her company.

She’d wanted so badly to wrap her arm around Yaz during the film last night. The old yawn and stretch, as it were. But she'd held back, terrified that if she'd tried to make a move, Yaz would have just left.

And it was easier sitting next to her on the sofa a little bit heartbroken than it would have been to be there alone, completely devastated.

Maybe she should have made some popcorn and when they both reached for some, she could have just held Yaz’s hand. Would Yaz have pulled away?

Jane had no idea.

Jane had no idea of anything anymore - how she'd fallen so fast, how Yaz had burrowed herself into Jane’s life so completely. What was it about Yaz anyway? For one thing, she was obviously brilliant, and funny, and kind, and all other sorts of adjectives. And she was beautiful; her eyes sparkled, and her smile was radiant, and her laugh chimed like bells and -

She sighed, shaking her head and scrubbing at her eyes, trying to busy herself with her morning baking. Those kinds of thoughts were going to have to stop, she reminded herself.

Despite the self-reprimand, her thoughts immediately drifted back to the person she wasn’t supposed to be thinking about, and she realized Yaz was probably going to be late for work. Unless she showed up in the clothes she’d worn to the O’Brien’s house.

In all honesty, Jane hadn’t been able to suppress the little thrill she’d had at seeing Yaz leave her flat that morning wearing the same clothes she'd come in with. It even lessened the vague disappointment that Yaz still hadn’t technically seen _Goonies_.

That was a problem for another night, perhaps. And if that night ended up like this one had, Jane certainly wouldn't complain.

Although she really should.

Jane knew she and Yaz weren't on the same level, would never be on the same level. She needed to set some boundaries for herself. No lingering hugs, no unnecessary touching, _definitely_ no cuddling.

It wasn’t like she was worried that she would lose control, but when she was around Yaz, it _was_ admittedly difficult not to. Just looking at her, Jane was bombarded with the overwhelming urge to run her hands through Yaz’s soft hair, caress her cheeks, kiss her li-

She grimaced, trying to pry herself away from that line of thinking and refocus on the tray of donuts she found herself in front of. Jane was fine with not getting any closer to Yaz, she really was. A little crush wasn’t going to stop them from being friends. Because, at this point, she couldn’t imagine her life without the other woman anymore. And if they were just destined to be friends, she’d take what she could get.

Jane was rudely interrupted from her thoughts at the sound of the front door slamming open. And for a brief moment, she naively hoped it was Yaz coming back to her. Maybe to profess her undying love.

At least she could dream.

She deflated just a little as Graham and Ryan appeared in her shop, smiling as warmly as the bread she was now pulling out of the oven. “Happy Monday, Janey!” Graham greeted her with a smile.

The sudden loud interruption distracted her and she fumbled with the loaf pan, searing the edge of her hand on the hot metal.

Ryan winced as he saw her stick her fingers in her mouth, trying to soothe the burn. He yanked his apron out of his bag and pulled it over his head as he vaulted over the counter to join Jane.

Graham grimaced as well as he caught sight of the raw skin of her hand. “I swear I see you burn yourself just about every time I walk in here, love. You alright?”

She nodded, failing to hide a wince at the volume of Graham's voice and he chuckled, patting her shoulder softly as she slouched into the counter, burying her face in her hands.

“How was your night then?” he said good-naturedly. “Feeling it a bit now in the daylight, are you?”

“I’m peachy, Graham, thanks,” she grumbled, trying to avoid the topic of conversation she knew was coming.

But, of course, Ryan was right on cue.

“Soooooo, Yaz brought you home, yeah?”

“Correct, gold star, Ryan,” she gritted out, shooting daggers at him. She scrunched up her nose at him as he laughed.

“Anything _happen_ after that?” he drawled, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“Ryan, what do we keep telling you about sticking your nose in Jane's business,'' Graham said. “But, I mean, since he asked... I wouldn’t mind knowing either.”

“You’re both nuisances, I swear,” Jane scowled, sighing as she felt herself start to give in. “She just- she brought me home.”

“And?” Ryan tried to lead her on, leaning in.

“And I may have still been a bit tipsy, so we might have watched a film,” Jane shrugged, sticking her scorched hand under the tap, hoping to communicate to her friends that she was too busy for this right now.

Ryan lit up for a split second before a frown creased his forehead. “Tell me it wasn't _Goonies_ , Jane,” Ryan sighed, already knowing the answer.

“Hey it's a classic! And she promised me she’d watch it with me when I found out she'd never seen it,” she argued, drying her hands on her apron and going about preparing more baked goods for the day.

“Yeah, but that's not the kind of movie you watch on a first date though, is it?” Ryan pointed out.

“What’s so wrong wit- wait, it wasn't a date, Ryan!” she said, getting flustered enough to nearly drop the tray she had just grabbed.

“How close were you sitting to watch this film, might I ask?” he said, voice dripping with faux innocence.

Jane glanced around the bakery, trying to look anywhere but at him.

“We were, I mean, we were pretty close, but, I mean, I just, I think she were just worried about me, that’s all, she kept force feeding me water,” she trailed off, knowing she wasn’t coming off as very convincing. “I wasn’t _that_ tipsy,” she mumbled, a bit embarrassed at her state the night before.

“Yeah, you hadn't had a lot, but you are a complete lightweight,” Graham piped up.

“Okay, okay, what happened after the movie then?” Ryan cut in, trying to steer the interrogation back on track.

“Ummmm,” she trailed off, hoping for anything that could bring an end to this conversation. But the boys were both hanging on her every word. Ryan’s eyes narrowed, taking her non-answer as suspicious.

Graham, on the other hand, seemingly realizing this conversation was going nowhere fast, started perusing the shelves for a suitable morning snack. It was times like these when he was very grateful his grandson worked in a bakery; it was all times, really, for he was always hungry.

Ryan seemed to put some pieces together, and his eyebrows shot up as he nearly shouted, “Oh my god, did you sleep with her?!”

“Kinda- wait no, not like, not like that!” Jane choked out. “She just- she- well, she sort of- she sort of fell asleep, that’s all.”

“And then you woke her up and she went home, right?” Ryan looked like he knew what the answer to that question was going to be. Jane scowled at the smug look painted across his face.

“Not exactly... she kinda fell asleep on- on top of me,” she managed to squeak out.

“She fell asleep on you?” he deadpanned.

“Well, I couldn't exactly move, could I? It's like when a cat falls asleep in your lap, right, you'd be a monster to wake them to move, you just resign yourself to your fate, don't you, they're so cute you can’t distur-“

“Ah, so are you saying Yaz is cute now?”

“Ye- no! No no no, Ryan! Please, just- stop, it was fine, it was just a normal, casual friend movie.”

“Yeah, but if we were watching a film together, and I happened to fall asleep on you, what would you do?”

Jane knew exactly what she’d do, but she wasn't about to tell Ryan that, was she? It’d just prove his point.

“Alright, alright, so after that, when you woke up, she just left?”

Jane really wanted to wipe the cheeky look off his face.

“No,” she mumbled, staring at her shoes. “She may have cooked me breakfast.”

Ryan nearly swallowed his tongue.

“She coo- look, Jane, listen mate. I know Yaz is nice, but she’s just not that nice- not for just anyone, I mean.”

Before she could shoot down where he seemed to be going with that, the door opened again. Jane ignored it, knowing the last time she’d got her hopes up, she’d just been disappointed. Ryan glanced over her shoulder, a grin splitting his face.

“Well, speak of the devil! Whatcha doing in our neck of the woods, then, Yaz?” Ryan said cheerily, clearly enjoying trying to make Jane squirm. And squirm she did as she whipped around, eyes landing on the object of her affections.

Her mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out as Yaz gave them all a little wave. “Hello, Ryan. Fancy seeing you two here, bit surprised this is the first time though, been in a few times, now,” she trailed off, eyes landing on Jane.

“Oh, have you now?” Ryan said in faux shock, giving Jane a pointed look.

Everyone was looking at her, and she was just standing there, stupid look painted on her face. This really wasn’t the situation she was expecting to be in this morning.

“Sorry to bother you all, I just- I realized I left my jacket here,” Yaz said, snapping Jane out of her panic.

“Oh! Oh, yeah, okay, alright, I’ll just-” Jane hurried out as she turned to flee the kitchen, taking the stairs up to her flat two at a time. She took a deep breath to calm herself as she glanced around, spotting the leather garment draped over the back of her sofa.

The blankets were still rumpled around where they'd slept and Jane had to shake the memory out of her mind, lest she not get any sort of work done the entire day. Yaz was really starting to invade her every waking thought, and it was about time she got a handle on that, wasn’t it?

She snatched up the jacket and ran back downstairs, suddenly worried about what Yaz and Ryan would be talking about. What if he was trying to pull the same trick on Yaz as he'd been trying on her. Oh no.

But they seemed to just be having a chat as Jane returned, slightly breathless. She handed the coat back over the counter and tried her hardest not to focus on how Yaz’s fingers brushed against her own.

She tried even harder not to stare as Yaz returned the jacket to its rightful place around her shoulders. The muscles in her arms and neck flexed as she pulled it tight and Jane had to consciously stop her mouth from watering.

“Thanks, Jane. Bye Ryan, Graham!” Yaz waved as she retreated, completely oblivious to what she was doing to Jane.

As the door shut behind her, Ryan whipped around to look at Jane again.

“Janeeeeee, you got it bad, mate, did you see how you were looking at her? You and Yaz, mate, you'd be perfect together.”

Jane huffed, starting to get annoyed at Ryan’s pushiness. “No, we wouldn't, Ryan, would you just drop it. Please.”

“But you totally wou-”

“How do you even know she’d like - y’know, someone like me, anyway!” Jane snapped, cutting him off, hopefully for good.

“Who wouldn’t like you, Jane, you’re -”

“No, I mean, you don't even know if she likes women, she told me she didn't have a boyfriend when I asked if she was dating anyone. Emphasis on _boy_ ,” she said, gesturing to herself and shooting him an unamused look.

Graham piped up through a mouthful of a cinnamon bun. “I mean, you two did really seem to click yesterday, love, it wouldn't hurt to just ask her, would it?”

“Yes, it could, it really, really could. I could ask and it would freak her out and she'd never want to see me again, even just to be friends. Which I'm totally fine with, by the way, I just won’t say anything and we’ll just keep on being friends.”

She could see that nobody believed her.

“I really am fine, seriously, I'm totally fine, everything’s okay, king of okay, I am.”

Ryan leaned closer, speaking softly. “Mate, I really do think she likes you, I haven't seen her act like she did yesterday in a while. She's just been stuck in a rut, married to her job, y’know. And yesterday…”

“Janie, we saw how she was looking at you at supper,” Graham finished for his grandson.

“And how you were looking at her too, might I add,” Ryan supplied.

“Yeah, you both aren't exactly subtle.”

“I'm the king of subtle,” Jane muttered, trying to lean casually against the counter but missing and stumbling instead.

Ryan tried to hold back a snicker as she brushed herself off and tried to play it off as if nothing of note had just happened in front of literally everyone in the shop.

Jane could feel her cheeks turning redder by the minute; she wasn't sure why, but she felt on the verge of tears. If Ryan kept ribbing her, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle it.

“Either way, what happened yesterday can’t happen again, any of it.”

“Well why not?” Ryan sighed, looking frustrated.

“Because she isn't interested, Ryan! And I don't want to make her uncomfortable or creep her out or anything.”

The very thought broke something within Jane, and she felt tears prickle her eyes.

“Oh.”

At least Ryan had the decency to look a little remorseful as she tried her hardest not to let the dam break.

“Oh, you really do like her, don’t you?” he conceded as a tear escaped, leaving a trail of sadness down her face.

“Leave me alone,” she grumbled, wiping angrily at her wet cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Jane, really,” he tried, creeping closer, seeming like he wanted to offer comfort even though he was technically the one who had upset her in the first place.

She snapped, burying her head in his chest and failing to hold back a sob. Ryan squeezed her tight, trying his best to hold her together. She felt another comforting hand on her back and Graham murmuring comforting things in her ear.

“Yaz wouldn't hate you, love, really, I promise, she's not that kind of girl.”

“And even if you did tell her you liked her, and she miraculously didn't feel the same way, I guarantee nothing bad would happen,” Ryan chimed in.

“You don't know that,” she sniffled.

“I mean, it's Yaz, we've been mates for years. I know she's not the kind of person who would just cut you off after something like that, she’d understand.”

“I really do think she feels some kind of way about you, Jane,” Graham tried to reassure her.

“And, like, I know the two of you are blind, but the two of us certainly aren't, and I know Nan agrees. I mean, you kept making eyes at each other… and at my grandparent’s table, no less! That was meant to be a family dinner, Jane,” he teased.

She hiccuped, choking out a laugh and giving him a light punch to the ribs. He smiled down at her.

“There you are, hey, it's gonna be alright, I promise.”

“I just- I can't lose her, Ryan, even as a friend, I couldn't live through that, I know that, I couldn't do it,” she stuttered out, trying to regain control of her breathing.

“You won't have to, hey, she won't be going anywhere, really. I'm sorry I egged you on, I didn't realize I'd make you cry, I didn't mean that,” he apologized.

“I know you didn't, Ryan,” she mumbled into his chest. “I’m fine, really, I'm fine, I'm fine,” she sniffled.

She wasn’t so sure anymore whether she was trying to convince him or herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprising absolutely no one, Ryan and Graham ship it. And sorry this chapter is like twice as long as usual, I have no self control.
> 
> Also, maybe you noticed that this is now going to be a series! It's because, again, I have absolutely no self control. I won't even apologize for naming it with a pun, this is just the pinnacle of humor.


	9. Chapter 9

Every morning for the rest of the week, Yaz had gone into the bakery and she didn't know why.

Of course, she knew she enjoyed seeing Jane, and she knew Jane’s pastries were out of this world, but the overwhelming compulsion to drop in surely wasn’t just because she was craving apple fritters.

Her bakery visits had quickly become the best part of her mornings. Every time she opened the door and spotted Jane’s smiling face, something inside her felt just a little bit lighter.

But her thoughts were starting to dwell on the baker and not the bakery, and she really needed to get a handle on them. Everything was swirling around in her head, so Yaz had done what she did best this week - throw herself into her work and pretend everything was normal.

But working harder also meant she was more exhausted, which was why she found herself with her head buried in her pillows in the middle of the afternoon, trying to get some rest. But her brain was too busy overanalyzing everything to give her any peace.

Jane had started texting her regularly, even video calling once when she wanted to show Yaz a pie she had been particularly proud of. For all her talent in the kitchen, she seemed hilariously inept with technology. Yaz constantly had to remind her through fits of laughter to flip the camera on her phone so she could see her face when she was talking.

Apart from their phone conversations and brief morning chats though, they hadn’t spent any amount of time together physically since the dinner. And the night and morning after.

That night had ended rather awkwardly the next morning, and Yaz was still unsure if Jane was somehow cross with her. Surely, it hadn’t been comfortable for Jane to sleep on the sofa, crushed by Yaz and her complete inability to stay awake for an entire film.

Maybe that was part of the reason why Jane had seemed so reluctant to touch her and be around her since that night. She had taken to shaking Yaz’s hand as she left the shop on her way to the police station, and it was at first endearing and comical, but now just seemed like Jane was viscerally uncomfortable touching her for more than a moment.

Once, when Jane had restocked the highest shelves in the shop, inadvertently revealing her belly button, it had been entirely out of Yaz’s control that she’d choked on her biscuit. And it had also been out of her control that she’d leaned so eagerly into the comforting hand Jane had placed on her back as she coughed. She cringed as she remembered how Jane had snatched her hand away as if it had been burned.

Yaz had tried to initiate a hug a few days after that when Jane had been on the other side of the counter polishing the display cases; her hair had smelled like vanilla, and maybe Yaz had lingered a moment too long, because Jane had gently pried herself away and retreated behind the counter, putting a physical barrier between them.

Yaz hadn’t understood why she’d suddenly felt so devastated.

But Jane _had_ texted her as soon as she’d left the bakery that morning, babbling about how glad she was to see her again, the message absolutely saturated with emojis.

Jane really did have the most bizzare texting style Yaz had ever encountered. Sometimes, she sent massive chunks of texts, sometimes she blew up her phone with dozens of separated sentences, never failing to steep her exclamations with emojis displaying a variety of emotions. It was perhaps the most adorable quirk Yaz had ever encountered.

They had been communicating so often, even Yaz’s mum had noticed her increased attention on her phone and was starting to get nosey about it. She’d caught Yaz smiling at a text on one of their outings together, and after that, she had known no peace.

And whatever her mother thought, she was wrong.

Najia had always been a little too interested in her love life. But Yaz always insisted she was more interested in other things. Sure, there _had_ been a few boys when she was younger. Yaz smirked into her pillow, remembering sneaking through a window to see Danny Biswas in year ten.

Honestly, now that she thought about it, the sneaking through the window bit had been more fun than the Danny bit. She grimaced at the realization, shuffling through other memories from her youth, coming to similar conclusions about all of them.

But Danny had been nice, right? He’d liked her.

She wasn’t - she shouldn’t, no, she didn’t have thoughts like that about another woman.

She didn’t.

She hadn’t.

Had she?

Yaz filed back through her childhood memories, skipping over Danny and every other boy who’s eye she had inadvertently caught. Had a girl ever caught her own eye?

She wasn’t sure. Well, there had been that one girl in her maths class.

Yaz had tried really hard to be her friend.

Making her laugh always made her heart warm.

She loved Jane’s laugh, and the way her nose scronched up when she made a lame joke, and the way her eyes crinkled when she walked in first thing in the morning.

Yaz shook her head, trying to get rid of the stray thoughts.

They were just friends. Good friends. Great friends. Yaz actually couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so close with someone. She and Jane had just clicked, and it felt so nice to be this close to someone so soon.

She felt like she just fit with Jane. She couldn’t stop thinking about the morning after she’d slept over, how it had felt so domestic. So normal. So great.

She truly had no idea where that forehead kiss had come from though, it had just felt so natural at the time. Maybe Jane had thought that was weird, too.

But that was just what girl friends did, right? They were affectionate with each order.

_Girlfriends._

Yaz chewed over the word in her head. 

If Jane - if she _liked_ Yaz, would she be alright with that?

_Probably_ , the little voice in the back of her head whispered.

She really, really liked her.

As a friend.

She just had to stop thinking about her, that was all. Just forget.

Lost in trying to forget, Yaz’s phone vibrated beside her with a message.

_Busy tonite?_

She grinned as she saw the screen, replying to Jane in the negative.

_I’ve got something amazing to show you!_

Yaz grinned and pocketed her phone, ready for an adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, it seems they're locked in a stalemate. Whatever could possibly force them together, hmmmm??
> 
> Sorry this chapter was a bit short and boring, but I promise I will try to make up for that in the next chapter, I swear.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update, what does it mean?!?!??!!? Sorry, I couldn't leave it with that last chapter, I was kinda too excited to post this one. And before you all yell at me, I really did try my hardest to foreshadow this...

Yaz showing up at Jane’s door was so far the best part of her night. Her smile was so wide it was hurting her cheeks as she ushered the other woman inside.

“I've got something fantastic planned for tonight! Well, I didn't exactly plan it, you see, the planet sort of planned it, I didn’t plan-et, I guess!” she giggled, glancing back at Yaz to make sure she got the joke. “And, anyway, I was helpless to whether any of this would happen tonight or not,” Jane rambled as she sprinted up the stairs to her flat, taking them two at a time out of excitement.

She could tell she wasn't making any sense as she turned to see Yaz’s eyebrow shoot up, throwing Jane a perplexed yet amused look as they entered her tiny flat.

“Here,” Jane rushed out, flustered as she snatched a blanket off the couch and shoved it at Yaz.

The other woman took it dutifully, tucking it under her arm as she draped her own jacket over the back of the sofa where the blanket had just been. Satisfied, Jane strolled over to the window behind the sofa.

“Alright, then, let’s get a shift on!” she said, clapping her hands decisively.

Jane hauled open the window and perched on the ledge, dangling her legs into the cool night air.

She heard Yaz start to protest, but before she could lose her nerve, she stretched up and just barely gripped the edge of the roof, pulling herself up.

At that exact moment, she was very glad indeed that she had some scrawny muscles. It would have been embarrassing to fall in front of Yaz. She wasn’t sure if that would’ve hurt herself or her pride more. Probably her pride, she concluded.

As she got situated on the roof, she stuck her head back through the window, blonde hair falling in a halo above her head.

“Blanket,” she said, reaching an arm in and opening and closing her hand.

Looking slightly stunned, Yaz did as she was told, passing the blanket to Jane and watching in confusion as she disappeared.

A moment later, Jane stuck her hand back through the window.

“Come on then, Yaz, up you pop!”

Jane was even more grateful for her biceps now as she grabbed Yaz’s hands, helping her onto the roof. She heard the rough sound of trainers scrabbling against brick trying to gain purchase, but Jane wasn’t about to let her go.

As she breached the edge of the roof, Jane held tight to Yaz. Realizing she was lingering, she dropped her hands, awkwardly brushing her own against her trousers.

“See, that wasn't so hard, was it?”

Yaz laughed in response as she took in the rooftop. The open area wasn’t very big, but it was flat and long enough to lie down.

“Do you come up here often?” she wondered aloud.

“Only on nights like tonight,” Jane said wistfully, busying her hands with the blanket.

Yaz stood back as Jane spread it out in the middle of the slightly cramped rooftop. Jane flopped down on her back, stretching an arm behind her head as a pillow.

“Come on, then,” she grinned, patting the space beside her.

Yaz beamed and joined her on the blanket, leaving just enough room between the two of them.

“It’s not much just yet, you see. It'll take a few minutes for your eyes to adjust to the darkness,” Jane turned to Yaz and whispered.

They turned their faces toward the vast expanse of twinkling stars above them. Tonight was a perfect night for stargazing, as the moon was barely a sliver in the sky, smiling down on them with a bright grin.

“The stars are beautiful,” Yaz gasped.

“Just wait ‘til we start seeing meteors,” Jane said, wonder coating her voice. “A shower is peaking tonight, and the conditions are just perfect.”

They settled in, stargazing in silence, hands dangerously close to touching on the blanket.

After a while, Yaz nudged Jane with her shoulder. “We can talk, y’know, that is allowed,” Yaz quipped.

“Alright, what do you want to talk about?”

“Well, if you come up here a lot, do you know much about constellations and galaxies and stuff?”

“Oh, I know everything, try me,” she grinned.

Yaz smirked at the challenge. “Alright, hotshot, tell me about that, go on,” she said, gesturing vaguely to the stars above.

“Well, that one right there is Orion, the mighty hunter. See, you’ve got his belt there, and right in this shoulder is Betelgeuse, it’s a red giant, one of the largest stars we know of,” she rambled, waving her hands in the air in front of her, excitement growing. “And just to the left of his armpit there, that's the Rosette Nebula. Some people think it looks like a skull, some a flower, you'd need binoculars to see it, and a telescope to see it well, but it’s there, it’s always there,” Jane finished with a forlorn sigh.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” Jane forced out a smile.

Thankfully, Yaz seemed willing to not push.

“Wow, medicine, astronomy, cuisine, you're a regular renaissance man,” she chuckled.

“Yeah, but I never did quite get a hang of the painting,” Jane joked, tongue sticking out between her teeth. “No matter how hard I try, my subjects just refuse to sit still!”

Yaz snorted out a laugh. “Is there anything you don’t know how to do?”

Jane paused, not sure how honest she should be. She knew Yaz made her want to be honest, so she took a deep breath. “Some things.”

“Like?” Yaz prodded gently.

_Like how to talk to you._

The thought flitted through her head, but refused to fall from her lips. Jane groaned in frustration; she just couldn’t force the words out. “Y’know, I want to tell you things, Yaz, I never want to tell anyone anything and yet I want to tell you everything.”

She turned to glance at Yaz, meeting her intense stare.

“The stars are that way, Yaz,” she giggled.

“I know,” the other woman nodded, not tearing her eyes off Jane for a second.

Jane tried not to squirm under such attention. “Well, if you aren’t looking up, then you might miss a shooting star. Can’t make a wish if you don’t see it,” she chuckled, a bit nervous suddenly.

Yaz smiled softly and tore her attention away from Jane. She relaxed a bit, and stared up at the sky too.

When the first meteor blazed its way across the night sky, both women gasped at the sight. Then the next one came, and it was even brighter than the last.

They lay like that for what felt like an eternity, witnessing such a dazzling display from the universe.

Jane turned her head eventually to look at Yaz, and suddenly she realized that they were very close together indeed. The stars were forgotten; Jane only saw the stars in Yaz’s eyes.

She’d only need to lean forward just a bit -

Jane closed her eyes for a moment, trying to compose herself.

But if she wasn't going crazy, Yaz was beating her to the punch, leaning in ever so slowly.

“Jane? I didn’t hurt your feelings, did I?”

“Of course not, Yaz.” _Not on purpose._

Yaz didn’t look like she believed her. Jane felt Yaz’s little finger brush up against her own on the blanket, and she inhaled sharply.

“What are you doing to me?” Jane’s eyes widened. She hadn’t meant for that to slip out, she really, really hadn't.

But Yaz didn’t seem at all shocked by the statement, if her smile was anything to go by.

“Your hair smells nice,” Yaz whispered.

And that was the classic line, wasn’t it? Jane’s heart felt full as she leaned closer, finally allowing herself to lower her guard, to really let Yaz in. “You kinda smell like a campfire?”

And neither of them were really expecting that. Jane was floored that something as weird as that had come out of her mouth, and Yaz just looked confused. But before Jane could apologize, Yaz sat up, looking less confused and more concerned.

She rolled onto her stomach, away from Jane, and she’d really blown it now, hadn’t she? She watched as Yaz crawled the few meters to the edge of the roof to peer over the side. Surely, she hadn’t messed up that bad, had she?

Apparently not, if the sudden tenseness in Yaz’s shoulders could be taken as a good sign in that regard. “Jane?” Yaz called over her shoulder.

“Yes, Yaz?” she said, dazed.

“I think your kitchen may be on fire.”

The words took a moment to sink in but when they did they felt like a ton of concrete weighing on her chest.

She jolted up, scrambling to the edge of the roof, careful not to overcompensate and tumble off. Sure enough, what she could see of her storefront was currently smoking. Thankfully, it didn’t seem too terribly bad so far.

“Okay, okay, alright, let's not panic,” Jane spit out, leaning away from the roof’s edge. “I’m not panicking.”

“Neither am I,” Yaz reassured her.

Jane ran her fingers through her hair nervously. “Good, at least neither of us are panicking,” she panicked.

“Alright, first things first, we've gotta get off the roof. Probably can't leave the way we came, might’ve spread to your flat,” Yaz thought aloud.

“My flat,” Jane cried, dismayed at the thought.

“Let's think about that later, alright,” Yaz said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“We’re only two stories up. Not too far down,” Jane tried to think positive. “Oh!” she yelped, dragging Yaz to the other side of the rooftop and pointing excitedly.

“No way,” Yaz said, backing away from Jane.

“Come on, I’ve seen it in enough films. If we land on the awning to the shop, we should just slide right off to the ground, easy peasy!”

“You can’t seriously be basing your escape plan on something you watched in a movie! I’ve never even seen that, that sounds insane!” Yaz cried.

“That’s because you fall asleep in films, Yaz!”

Yaz let out a giggle that was apparently ignorant of the situation they were currently in. She peered back down toward the ground far below.

“Think I’d rather have a broken leg than be on top of a burning building, don’t you think, Yaz?”

Yaz grimaced, knowing she was right. “Fair point. Alright, let’s do this,” she said, grabbing hold of Jane’s hand. She yanked Jane to the edge of the roof; Jane tried to avoid looking down.

She breathed deeply, steadying herself alongside Yaz. She felt Yaz give her hand a squeeze, and she looked up just as Yaz gave her a nervous grin and a nod.

“One, two, three!”

* * *

Yaz landed on the ground, hard. The impact of the landing sent her sprawling to the ground and she managed to roll out of it, if barely.

She pushed herself to her feet, brushing herself off as she fished her phone out of her trousers and started to dial 999.

“Hello, yes, there's been a fire -”

She turned as she spoke, realizing she’d dropped Jane’s hand when they’d landed, wanting to make sure she was alright.

But Jane was nowhere to be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry for that cliffhanger.
> 
> But! If you want to check out a meteor shower like in this chapter and you live in the northern hemisphere, the Lyrids will peak toward the end of next week! This information is my way to unsubtly try to soften the blow, I’m really so sorry y’all.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you saw where we left off and aren't too comfy with anything involving fire, feel free to skip this chapter and I'll put a little summary in the endnotes. There isn't anything graphic or anything, but just a general warning so y'all can be aware.
> 
> Also, I honestly don’t know if there are things medically inaccurate about this chapter. I feel like in a fic like this, you maybe should’ve been able to guess exactly where this was heading. But, I guess if you do happen to be a doctor (and not _the_ Doctor), feel free to yell at me in the comments.

“Jane?”

Silence.

“Jane!”

Yaz was frantic. So frantic she barely realized she was still on the phone. Scanning the area outside the shop, she spit out their location and shoved the phone back into her pocket, not even bothering to make sure she’d hung up.

She hadn't seen Jane run into the building.

She also hadn’t seen her _not_ run into the building.

Yaz sighed in frustration. She'd gone back inside, hadn’t she? She’d really gone back inside.

No time to think, just act. If she’d gone back inside, surely she should have come out by now, right?

Yaz pulled her shirt over her nose, running full speed at the door of the bakery. She crashed into the blue door she’d grown to love so, so much, the color no longer calming her as it had every morning.

Just like Jane calmed her whenever she saw her.

She could really use some of that calm right about now.

“Jane!” Yaz shouted through her shirt, her eyes watering as she entered the smoky room. She couldn’t see any flames, but she couldn’t see much of anything with how much smoke there was.

Yaz crouched low to the ground, scanning for any sign of Jane. She must have gone back to her flat. If she’d wanted to grab something, it was probably something from her home, Yaz reasoned.

Awkwardly shuffling across the floor, Yaz made her way up the stairs to the flat, forcing herself not to breathe too deeply and inhale any more smoke than she already was.

The flat looked much the same as the bakery did downstairs. Smoke hung in the air and settled in her lungs. Yaz rubbed at her eyes, trying desperately to see anything through the haze.

“Jane!”

There she was, sprawled out next to the sofa, seemingly unconscious.

Why the hell had she come back in here? They were both safe on the ground, they were both fine! What could she have possibly wanted?

Yaz bent over as she approached the woman, her frame racked with coughs as she tried to flip Jane over. She wasn’t moving.

“Jane,” she choked out, shaking her shoulders. “Come on, we have to get out of here.”

Yaz still couldn't see the source of the fire, but she could feel its heat surrounding her, closing in on them.

“Come on.” She coughed again, before she scooped Jane up bridal style, realizing there wasn’t time to wake her.

Where were the stairs? She couldn’t see a thing anymore. Yaz’s eyes were filled with tears, from the smoke or the situation, she didn’t know.

She stumbled, clutching onto the other woman tightly, faltering as she reached the top of the stairs.

“Come on, come on, it’s alright, I've got you,” she mumbled into Jane’s shoulder, hoping more than anything that she could hear her.

After what felt like an eternity, Yaz stumbled into fresh air. As soon as she crossed the threshold, her legs finally gave out, and she fell to the ground, sprawling on top of Jane.

Her mind flashed back to their meeting in the grocers all those weeks ago.

And suddenly, she really couldn't imagine her life without the woman who now lay unconscious before her.

Jane looked oh so pale, her usually rosy cheeks callow and covered in soot. Yaz pressed her fingers into Jane’s neck, trying to feel for a pulse. She couldn’t find one, but maybe that was just because her hands were shaking too hard to be very useful. At least, that’s what she hoped.

Yaz sucked in a breath of cool air, trying to calm down. The only person who could offer Yaz comfort right now was lying unconscious before her.

She’d had training for this sort of thing, emergencies were common in the police after all. But all of it flew out of her head, panic enveloping her very being as she stared at her friend.

Her friend?

No time to think, just act. Yaz had never been very good at that, she realized as she crossed her hands over Jane’s heart. She was always stuck in her own head. Thinking so hard about things that she failed to see what was plainly right in front of her.

Yaz counted to thirty, panting with the effort of each compression. Before she could think it through, she tilted Jane’s chin back and pinched her nose.

She couldn't lose her now, not after all they'd been through.

Not before she had the chance to talk to her, to really talk to her.

Yaz lowered herself toward Jane, suddenly nervous. But before she could overthink it, she pressed her lips against Jane’s and exhaled, praying her muscle memory would help her do this correctly.

She pulled back, blinking tears from her eyes as she made another fist against Jane’s chest and leaned all of her weight on her hands, compressing enough to almost break ribs.

At the end of the count, she lowered an ear to Jane’s mouth again, listening for breath.

When none came, she repeated the motions, trying her hardest not to give in to the sobs that tried to rack her body. She was fueled entirely by adrenaline now, that and the sheer will not to lose the best thing that had happened in her life in a long time.

The sound of sirens faintly penetrated Yaz’s mind, but she was too busy.

“Breathe. Breathe, Jane, please.”

She leaned her head against Jane’s chest, arms tiring and on the verge of giving up. But just as she was returning to Jane’s lips, the other woman sucked in a deep breath.

Yaz laughed as Jane drew in air, for that was the only thing she could do. Laugh and hold on to Jane like a lifeline, burying her face in her chest with relief.

“Yaz,” she croaked.

She pulled back and loosened her death grip on the woman, relishing being able to look into her eyes.

“Yaz, were you just kissing me?” she whispered weakly.

Yaz blushed before she remembered what was happening.

“What the hell were you thinking!”

Jane’s eyebrows shot straight into her hairline. But Yaz was just getting started, the anger at Jane’s recklessness boiling over.

“You could have died, Jane! You nearly died, what could have possibly been so important that you had to go into a burning building for?”

“I wouldn’t have died, Yaz, my lungs are brilliant. And besides, I’ve got you,” she smiled weakly as she brought up a hand to gesture vaguely toward her torso.

Yaz sat back, fuming, and only just noticing for the first time what Jane was wearing.

Her leather jacket.

Yaz balked at the sight, unable to process what she was seeing. Jane had risked her life for a bloody jacket?!

Jane must have seen the confusion flash across Yaz’s face, because she was ready with an explanation. “I know how much you like this jacket, Yaz.”

“Not as much as I like you!”

Yaz froze and so did the tears for a moment. The outburst hung in the air between them like smoke.

The panic at her words lasted only a moment before she remembered herself. She was nearly overcome by a blind rage, furious that Jane would dare risk her own life for such a silly thing. It must have shown in her eyes, for Jane started looking even more apologetic.

“Yaz, don't be cross with me,” she whimpered.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Yaz grumbled, wiping angrily at the tears in her eyes.

They were saved from exchanging any more words by an explosion of activity around them. The sirens Yaz had been ignoring brought with them a flurry of people and oxygen masks and shock blankets. Jane tried her best to deter the paramedics from making a fuss over her, but Yaz wasn’t having it.

“Jane, let them look at you,” she said sternly, but with any traces of anger forgotten.

“I’m fine, I'm alright,” she pouted, trying to shoo the paramedic away.

“Now is really not the time to be stubborn, I swear,” Yaz snapped, burying her face in her hands. 

“Alright, yes boss,” she said, giving a weak salute as she let the paramedic help her.

The sight almost made Yaz break down all over again.

The woman helping them sat back as she checked Jane out. “Do you have a place to stay for the night? I don't think you’ll need to stay in hospital.”

“She does.”

Jane whipped around toward Yaz, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“She can stay with me.”

And her eyebrows stayed there, possibly permanently.

Yaz chuckled at the startled look on her face.

“Well, you can't very well stay here, now can you?”

Jane opened her mouth, but Yaz wasn’t about to let her get a word in edgewise. “You're not arguing this one, Jane.”

The look on the other woman’s face went a bit funny, and Yaz faltered, fearful that she’d maybe overstepped a boundary.

“Unless you don't want to stay with me, that is, of course you ca-”

“No no, Yaz, of course I- I mean I'd love- I mean- I- thank you,” she stuttered out.

“For letting you stay over or for running into a burning building for you?” Yaz quipped, starting to calm down a bit now that she knew Jane was safe.

At least Jane had the good grace to look embarrassed. “Both I suppose, for everything and for, y’know, restarting my heart and all that, good job, gold star.”

“Well, I'm a police officer, can’t _not_ help someone in need, couldn't leave you hanging, could I?”

Jane smiled before her eyes started to fall shut and she leaned against Yaz’s shoulder, exhaustion finally consuming her.

The paramedic tidied up, rattling off a list of things to look out for. Yaz may have frozen up a bit when she mentioned blue lips. “Her oxygen levels seem to be fine, I think what she needs right now is just a good rest.”

Yaz thanked the woman as she departed, leaving her and Jane slumped together. Yaz almost didn’t have the heart to disturb the peaceful look on Jane’s face, but she knew they couldn’t stay there forever.

And besides, she didn’t think she could deal with Jane going quiet right now. Not after what they’d just been through. She didn’t want to see Jane go quiet like that ever again.

“Come on, up we go,” she said, shaking Jane’s shoulder and rousing her. Jane blinked slowly, pouting as they struggled up, Yaz having to shoulder most of Jane’s weight. “You'll like my place, I promise. There's a hundred percent less fire over there.”

Jane gave a weak smile and reached for Yaz’s hand, squeezing it with surprising strength.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Yaz.”

Yaz smiled softly. “Of course, don't thank me. You may be one of the few people I’d run into a burning building for, y’know.”

Jane hummed in thought. “Would Ryan make the cut, then?”

Yaz laughed. “Nah, he can fend for himself.”

That got a giggle out of Jane and her heart swelled at the sound. They started slowly, walking away from the smoldering remnants of the night, leaving it all behind them.

“Come on, let’s get to bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To sum up in case you wanted to skip it, Jane realized Yaz left her leather jacket in her flat and tried to go back to get it, Yaz had to follow her in to save her, CPR (and the kiss of life) ensued, and now they're heading back to Yaz's for the night.
> 
> See you all next Friday! And don't forget about the meteor shower this week!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this is late. It’s kinda been a week. But I hope you enjoy this chapter!

The night had honestly started really well.

Jane had successfully invited Yaz over. The sky was clear and the stars were bright. They’d maybe even almost kissed.

At least, Jane was hoping they had almost kissed.

But she’d never know, because before anything could happen, everything went to hell. Really, really fast.

Her bakery on fire - not ideal. Her pseudo date with Yaz interrupted - maybe even worse. Jumping off the roof - honestly kind of fun, but she probably shouldn't be admitting to that, should she?

They were both fine. They’d landed completely fine.

But then Jane had remembered. Remembered Yaz tossing her jacket so casually on the back of her sofa. Jane knew how much Yaz loved that jacket. She rarely, if ever, saw her without it. Except when she was in uniform, perhaps, but that probably didn't count.

Jane really didn't have much of a choice, did she? She knew she'd do anything for Yaz. So getting her jacket made perfect sense at the time.

Everything after that had been a bit of a blur.

She remembered the heat and the smoke and the snugness of the jacket wrapped around her frame. It had been comforting in the moment - when she’d tried to find her way out and realized she couldn't.

Yaz had been outside. She’d abandoned Yaz.

Jane had leaned against the wall for barely a moment, just to catch her breath. Then a pair of strong arms had wrapped around her, pressing something over her nose and mouth. As she’d drifted into unconsciousness, the heat had vanished.

She remembered lying on the ground, Yaz’s face millimeters from her own.

And then just pain. All through her chest and eyes and heart. But Yaz had been there, and she’d made it all go away.

The journey to Yaz's place had Jane drifting in and out of consciousness. Yaz’s arm wrapped around her waist was certainly not unwelcome. She’d pressed Jane tight against her body, and it made Jane realize that everything was going to be okay.

Jane wouldn't lie - it felt really nice to have someone be so protective of her.

Yaz had shouldered her way into her flat and led Jane to her sofa, resting her gently against the pillows where she now sat, staring blankly as Yaz buzzed around her.

She figured she was probably in shock.

Yaz fussed over her, bringing her water, tucking a blanket around her shoulders and then removing it when she realized Jane was probably hot enough.

Jane sat in a haze, just glad to be in Yaz’s company. Her jacket had been returned to its rightful place around her shoulders and that was all that mattered.

The movement around her ground to a halt, and Jane shook herself out of her stupor, staring up at Yaz.

“I said, I'm thinking it'll be a while before you can go back to your flat.”

Jane nodded numbly, shrinking a bit further into the sofa.

“I- I figured you might want a shower,” Yaz muttered, scratching the back of her neck and avoiding Jane’s gaze. “I put a fresh towel and a spare set of pajamas in the bathroom. If you want, if you don’t, y’know, that’s fine,” she trailed off.

A shower sounded absolutely fabulous. Jane took her time, letting the cool water wash over her and rinse away the soot that still coated her skin.

Her hair was a bit tricky, as lifting her arms above her head proved to be a bit of a struggle. The movement pulled at her ribs, which screamed in pain. Yaz had really done a number on her, she mused, huffing out a weak laugh.

But she smelled like Yaz now and that might have just been the most comforting thing in the world at the moment.

She eventually emerged from the bathroom, hair damp and hanging around her face. Yaz was waiting patiently for her, and the sight relaxed Jane enough to suddenly become extremely exhausted.

“Thank you for letting me come over, Yaz.” She shifted from one foot to the other, feeling very small, standing so out of place in Yaz’s flat, in her life.

“Don't thank me, you've been through a lot tonight.”

“Well, so have you,” Jane countered, almost defensively. An awkward silence hung in the air.

Jane sighed. “You didn't have to do that, Yaz.”

Yaz shot her a puzzled look. “What, come get you?”

Jane shrugged, avoiding her gaze.

“Well, you shouldn't have gone back in there, Jane!”

Jane winced at her forceful tone, knowing full well Yaz was right.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice. She fought to keep the tears she felt prickling her eyes from falling.

Yaz’s face softened at that. She scooched over on the sofa and patted the space next to her.

Jane sank down and it was so comfortable and comforting that she almost fell asleep on the spot.

“Please don't ever do anything like that again, you understand me?”

Jane nodded as she wiped furiously at her eyes, willing her cheeks to stay dry.

Yaz hesitantly reached an arm around her shoulder, pulling Jane close to her as they sank into the sofa together. Her hand ran through Jane's wet hair, and when Yaz’s nails scratched her scalp, Jane had to hold in a hum of utter contentment.

“I'm so, so sorry,” Yaz whispered into her hair.

Jane sat up, suddenly distressed at the idea Yaz might feel in any way remorseful.

“Don’t apologize, Yaz, this wasn't your fault. I’m- I’m glad you were there for me.”

Yaz gave her a hesitant smile and nod as the tense silence blanketed them again. Jane couldn’t think for the life of her what to say, words jumbled around in her brain and the pull of sleep was making it even harder to think around Yaz.

“Your sofa is really comfy, I’m sure it’ll be perfect for a kip,” Jane said, already snuggling in to the soft cushions.

“Nonsense,” Yaz frowned. “You take my bed, I'll be fine out here.”

“No, Yaz, really, I couldn't impose,” Jane rushed out.

“Jane, don’t argue, you're sleeping in my bed.” A little rush went through Jane at the words, even though she knew they were innocent enough.

“Come on, I've just changed the sheets and everything, nice and cozy,” Yaz smiled, hopping up and holding out her hand. She led Jane into her bedroom, switching on a lamp and letting warm light seep into the space.

Under normal circumstances, Jane probably would have taken a look around, but the only thing on Jane’s mind right now was sleep, her eyelids weighing more heavily with each passing moment. Yaz pulled back the covers on her bed and took Jane by the hand, gently pushing her under the sheets.

“Hold on, I'll be right back,” Yaz whispered, pulling the blankets under Jane’s chin. She left the room for a moment and came back with a glass of water.

 _Always taking care of me_ , Jane thought with a sleepy smile. In the brief moment Yaz had been gone, her head had sunk into the pillow and she was already on the edge of slumber.

“You alright, then? Need anything else?”

Jane shook her head as much as she could with her face buried in Yaz’s pillow. “Thank you, Yaz. For everything.”

“Of course,” she said, brushing a strand of Jane’s hair from her face. “If you need anything, promise you'll come get me, yeah?”

Jane nodded and let out a little yawn.

Yaz smiled at that, switching off the lamp and turning to leave.

“Wait.”

Jane saw Yaz freeze with her hand on the doorknob, ready to retreat to the sofa for the night. Something in her just could not let the other woman do that.

“Can you stay with me? Just for a bit?”

The question had been difficult but at least if Yaz said no, she knew she'd at least asked.

But she felt the bed dip beside her and knew that Yaz was there with her, would hopefully always be there with her.

Yaz relaxed next to her, barely any room left between them. Feeling brave, Jane leaned her head against Yaz’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

“Again, you don't have to apologize, Jane, really, I mean it.”

She nodded, her cheek pressing into Yaz’s shoulder.

“What do I do now?” she spoke into the dark.

Yaz sighed beside her. “I don't know. But I’ll be right here with you,” she said, finding Jane’s hand above the sheets and giving it a gentle squeeze.

A silent tear spilled onto Jane’s cheek, and she prayed no more would follow.

“I’m not used to that,” Jane admitted, barely a whisper.

“Not knowing what to do?” Yaz asked, cocking her head to the side.

Jane giggled. “Oh, I’m never sure what I’m going to do. I meant having someone, y’know, who’s got my back.”

Yaz’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I know the O’Brien’s care about you. You’ve got them, too,” Yaz reassured her.

Jane bit back a sigh of frustration, already mentally kicking herself for voicing this particular thought. “I know, and I love them, they’re amazing. I meant- I don’t- I’m not sure what I meant.”

She sighed again, closing her eyes if only to shield herself from Yaz’s scrutiny. But Yaz was starting to rub circles over her knuckles, and Jane felt her resolve slowly crumble away.

“You remember the stars I pointed out to you?” she started tentatively.

Yaz hummed in thought. “Orion? Or the Rose Nebula?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s the one,” Jane sighed, memories from her past rushing back to her, bringing more tears to her eyes.

Yaz waited patiently for her to continue, reaching out and softly brushing a tear from her cheek. Jane inhaled a shaky breath, determined to soldier on.

“I had a friend once. Her name was Rose.”

A sad smile crossed her face then. She hadn’t talked about Rose to anyone, not until Yaz. Yaz had stumbled into Jane’s life and burrowed her way into her heart, just like Rose had, all those years ago.

The smile dropped from her lips as she realized what she’d have to say next.

“She died try-“ Jane paused, sucking in a shaky breath. “She died trying to help me. I got her killed, Yaz. Just like I nearly killed you tonight,” she choked out, swallowing thickly and fighting back a sob.

“The people I love don’t stay, and it’s usually my fault. And I- I couldn’t- you-“

Jane felt the dam in her heart break, everything spilling out in a sob that racked her entire body. She felt an arm snake around her waist as Yaz pulled her close, rubbing soothing circles into her back and shushing into her hair.

She held Jane for what felt like forever, and murmured words of comfort as Jane started to calm down, hiccuping into the crook of Yaz’s neck.

“You don’t have to go on unless you want to,” Yaz started. “But I’m sure whatever happened wasn’t your fault, and tonight _definitely_ wasn’t.

Before Jane could protest, Yaz cut her off. “And I’m sorry I was so cross at you, I was just scared. Scared I’d lost you.”

“Sorry, Yaz,” Jane sniffed, scrubbing at her eyes.

“Hey, we’ve talked about you apologizing,” Yaz quipped.

And that got a giggle out of Jane, and with it, a weight she’d been carrying was lifted from her shoulders. She pulled away from Yaz’s embrace, smiling through her tears.

“How married are you to the idea of sleeping on the sofa? ‘Cause I’m happy to share,” Jane grinned.

Yaz opened and closed her mouth, apparently unsure of what to say.

“Not sure I can be alone right now,” Jane added in the faintest of whispers.

A sad smile flashed across Yaz’s face before she sank further into the bed, turning to face Jane.

“No funny business, I promise,” Jane chuckled as she snuggled in, leaving ample room between her and Yaz so as not to make her uncomfortable.

A comfortable silence enveloped them, threatening to send Jane straight to sleep. As she finally started drifting into unconsciousness, she felt Yaz shift beside her.

“What if I want there to be?” Yaz’s voice pierced the darkness around them.

“Want there to be what?” Jane mumbled into her pillow, sleepiness slurring her words.

“Funny business.”

Jane froze. She was definitely awake now. Opening her eyes, she came face to face with Yaz, barely a breath away from her.

“Yaz?” Jane asked, searching Yaz’s eyes as best she could in the dark. For any indication, anything at all to reveal what was on her mind.

But she didn’t respond. She simply reached out for Jane, resting a hand on her cheek ever so softly. Yaz moved almost imperceptibly closer, her gaze flickering down to Jane’s lips for the briefest of moments.

“Are you sure?” Jane whispered, nearly brushing against Yaz’s mouth now. “I couldn't bear it if you weren't-“

But then she was cut off by the softest press of lips to her own. The kiss made Jane’s head spin, but before she had much of a chance to respond, Yaz pulled away slowly, resting her forehead against Jane’s.

“I was so scared I’d lost you tonight,” Yaz choked out.

Jane brought her hand up to Yaz’s cheek, softly rubbing the pad of her thumb across her skin in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. “You’ll never lose me, Yaz. Not if I can help it.”

Yaz broke into a watery smile as a single tear rolled down her cheek into Jane’s waiting hand. She hiccuped out a laugh as Jane cut her off with another kiss, more desperate than the first and full of all the things they couldn’t speak aloud just yet.

Jane smiled against Yaz’s lips, pulling her closer, needing her closer. But she had to stifle a groan as Yaz leaned into her, elbow inadvertently jabbing her in her bruised ribs.

Yaz yanked away at the sound of pain, worry in her eyes. But the discomfort was the least of Jane’s concerns. She was far more focused on Yaz, so close to her now. The tears wetting her cheeks were of the happy variety now, and they couldn’t blur out the vision in front of her.

Not knowing what to say, Jane tugged at Yaz gently, tucking herself under the other woman’s chin. Without a word, Yaz pulled her close, holding her protectively.

All the uncertainties of the night, all the uncertainties of their time together, they could all wait. Wait for the fresh start of a new morning.

They could face tomorrow. Together.


	13. Two Weeks Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy May Day! Here's a little epilogue for you all. A massive thank you to everyone who’s been reading and especially commenting, we’ve finally made it to the end! Or have we? Keep an eye out soon for a possible sequel (if I’m brave enough to actually post it, that is). I’m actually really proud of this dumb little story, so I hope everyone has had as much fun reading it as I’ve had writing it. Kisses!

The past two weeks had been some of the best in Yaz’s life.

When they’d woken up after the night of the fire, tangled in each other’s arms, everything was different. Especially between the two of them. But despite Jane’s joy at being with her, she knew the events of the previous day were weighing on her more than she was letting on.

They’d decided to pop back to Jane’s flat to grab some clothes and toiletries for her stay with Yaz. Jane had had an odd look on her face when they’d passed through the scorched remains of her bakery. Almost like she was grieving a loved one.

Yaz hadn’t wanted to push it; the night before had been traumatic enough. So Yaz had taken Jane’s comfort into her own hands, and they'd baked to cheer her up.

And boy, had Jane baked.

She was out of a job until they could start on repairs and sitting around Yaz’s flat all day was not well suited to Jane’s energetic and at times fidgety lifestyle. So instead, she took it upon herself to always keep Yaz’s kitchen fully stocked with dozens of fresh sweets.

Not that Yaz was complaining, of course. She certainly didn't mind having a chef around with too much time on her hands. She’d never eaten so well in her whole life.

Coming home to a home cooked meal after a long shift sorting parking disputes somehow made it all worth it. She felt like she could handle the mundanity of her life if Jane was there at the end of it.

And the pastries. My god, the pastries.

But Yaz hadn’t _just_ been stuffing her face with delicious baked goods.

They'd also been on a bit of a date.

Sheffield was apparently very adventurous, as Yaz had discovered when Jane had taken her to Peak District Park. They’d climbed around Stanage Edge and explored the nearby caverns. It had been a perfect day.

They’d come back to Yaz’s, exhausted. But Jane had somehow had enough energy to coerce Yaz into finishing _Goonies_. She had to admit, it was actually a pretty good film. Even if she was paying a bit more attention to the woman next to her than what was happening on the screen.

Yaz was still a little unsure of herself. This was uncharted territory for her. But Jane had been nothing but sweet with her, and Yaz knew she liked her and her company, so that was all that mattered. In truth, she was surprised she’d actually kissed Jane all those nights ago, but she was so soooo glad she had.

They'd even been around to the O’Brien’s again. After they’d broken the news of the fire, Grace had insisted if they needed anything, anything at all, she was more than happy to help.

And that help just happened to include a very delicious dinner. Ryan couldn’t stop teasing them after he’d caught them holding hands under the table, much to the chagrin of his grandparents. But Jane couldn't stop smiling, and seeing that look on her face was worth it if Yaz had to endure a little loving ribbing from her mate.

Jane had been like that the past two weeks, much to Yaz’s confusion. Even though she'd lost everything, she'd gained Yaz, Jane had told her in the quiet hours of one lazy morning. Yaz was sure she was merely a consolation prize compared to both Jane’s flat _and_ her bakery going up in flames. But the other woman truly didn't seem all that bothered, especially when she was around Yaz.

Since that night, they'd just been holed up in their own little world. Eventually, they'd have to return to Jane’s - clean it up, fix it, make it livable. But Jane was more than welcome at Yaz’s flat. For as long as she wanted.

Which brought them to today, with Yaz arriving home to a chipper as always Jane puttering around her kitchen. As soon as she spotted Yaz walking through the door, she beamed like she’d just caught a glimpse of a shooting star.

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” Yaz joked, dropping her jacket and a small box on the sofa. 

“Oh, loads! Here, stir this,” Jane quipped, handing Yaz a mixing bowl the moment she set foot in the kitchen.

Yaz chuckled, hopping up on the counter and starting to stir what appeared to be brownie batter.

“Can't wait until we can go back to the shop, you'll really like it there, Yaz! I’ll show you how to use all the big equipment,” she grinned.

“And what's wrong with the stuff I've got here?” Yaz said, gesturing to her measly cooking supplies.

“No offence, love, but your kitchen’s got nothing on my bakery.”

“Wanna bet?” Yaz waggled her eyebrows.

“Oi, don’t be competitive! She doesn’t like that,” Jane pouted.

Yaz frowned. “She being the shop? Not sure a shop can have opinions,” Yaz giggled.

Jane gasped and clutched at her chest dramatically. “She's much more than just a shop, Yaz! You'll see, once we can clean the rest of the _firey bits_ out of her,” Jane said with a grimace and a shudder.

Yaz smiled into her bowl, offering up the spatula for Jane to lick, which she accepted happily. She hummed in surprise as she spotted the current bane of Yaz’s existence on the counter.

“You forgot this,” Jane smirked around her chocolatey utensil, looping an apron emblazoned with _Kiss the Cook_ around Yaz’s neck, fingers brushing up against her neck as she tied the apron in a bow behind her.

But as dumb as the apron looked, she couldn’t help but like it a little, as it gave Jane an excuse to press a gooey, brownie batter kiss to Yaz’s lips. Not that she needed an excuse.

Yaz laughed as she pushed her away in faux annoyance, wiping at the chocolate on her face. “Well, before you get the both of us even messier, I kinda got you something.”

Jane perked up at that. The hopeful look on her face made Yaz’s heart sing as she pointed out the box sitting on the sofa. Jane scrambled over to it, giving Yaz a questioning look before she tore it open.

In her hands, she held a silver coat.

Yaz couldn’t help but beam at the look on Jane’s face. “Found it in a thrift shop, thought you could use it for a lab coat, y’know, when you start med school and all.”

Jane grinned so hard, it looked like it hurt her face. She threw the coat on over her own apron, giving a little spin.

“Yaz, I love it! I lo- I- thank you!” Jane beamed, wrapping Yaz in a bone-crushing hug.

“You look brilliant. And you’ll be brilliant, I know it,” Yaz said with what little air she could take in around Jane’s suffocating embrace.

Jane pulled away, and she couldn’t wipe the grin off her face. And neither could Yaz.

“Speaking of brilliant,” Jane started, eyeing the batter Yaz had just mixed. “Well done, Yasmin, very well done,” Jane said, softening her Yorkshire accent and giving Yaz a firm handshake.

“Thanks, Mr. Hollywood,” Yaz giggled, accepting the handshake and wiping her now floury hand across the front of her apron.

Jane grinned and booped Yaz’s nose, leaving a smudge of flour on her face.

A cheeky move she’d come to immediately regret.

Yaz swiped her hand on the counter, catching Jane by the front of the apron and pulling her in with a look of menacing glee in her eye.

“No no no, Yazzz,” Jane squealed as Yaz pinned her against the counter, patting her hand against her cheek and pulling her in for a peck on the lips. “Yaz, you've got me all dirty,” she pouted, scrubbing at her skin, failing to hide a grin.

“Noooo, _you’ve_ got you all dirty,” Yaz quipped, gesturing to the rest of Jane, her clothes and apron already caked in various baking ingredients.

Jane laughed, holding up her hands in surrender. “Alright, truce, truce.”

They fell into fits of laughter, and when they started to calm down, Yaz registered that there was music playing softly from Jane’s phone; she’d been so focused on her present she hadn’t even realized. A song started that Yaz was sure must have been a century old.

Yaz turned to Jane, whose expression softened as their eyes met. She bowed before Yaz, holding out her hand.

“Yasmin Khan, may I have this dance?”

Yaz grinned as she hopped off the counter, grabbing Jane’s hand. She pulled Yaz close, ghosting a hand over the small of her back.

Yaz smiled into the crook of Jane’s neck as they started to sway, Jane humming softly in her ear. As the music swelled, a glint of mischief flashed in Jane’s eyes. Before Yaz could parse out what she was planning, she was being swept off her feet as Jane dipped her and gave her a quick peck on the lips.

They giggled as they righted themselves, clutching onto each other as they stumbled around. As they spun around the kitchen, all Yaz’s worries from the day melted away.

For now, she was content being wrapped in the arms of the best person she’d ever met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all know I couldn't end it without a GBBO reference, could I? And the book that came out yesterday where they dance, I can't lads. But again, thank you all for making it to the end and leaving such lovely comments, I always love reading them! Until next time!


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